


Be My Inspiration

by QueenoftheNile



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: College AU, Coming Out, Coming of Age, F/F, F/M, Growing Up, Identity Issues, In which John is a smol strugglin boi, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Sexuality, Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, mullette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-05-21 07:10:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 80,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14910732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheNile/pseuds/QueenoftheNile
Summary: John has always been the type to focus on school over other things. It has made it easier for him in the past not to waste time on romantic relationships but rather to focus on school, and this is what he thinks he'll do in college.But then, he meets Alexander Hamilton, and unresolved family issues climax at a wedding that has already caught John off guard.





	1. Artist's Block

John Laurens had been looking forward to college since the day he found out he could actually live on campus. 

 

He had worked hard, done a lot of extra credit and early college classes, and had never felt ecstasy to match the day he'd received his scholarship.

 

He was even more excited to find that the college he would be attending the coming school year was in New York City, far away from his hometown in South Carolina.

 

He packed his bags in a state of ecstasy, said his well wishes and goodbyes to his mother, father and sisters, and hopped on a bus to the big apple.

 

He didn't leave behind any direct bad blood, but the tension betwixt him and his family bordered on suffocating due to John’s budding sexuality and his family's traditional religious ways.

 

He had a friend he'd made online in New York, and he hoped to get around to meeting up with them; he wasn't leaving behind any real friends in South Carolina.

 

He stepped off the bus, and stood in awe of the big city.

 

He'd never really traveled before, though he'd always wanted to, and had grown up in a small, know-your-neighbor type of town.

 

This was something completely different.

 

A bustling, swirling crowd of people, diverse in every way imaginable, flooded the sidewalk in a kind of consistent, organized type of chaos.

 

A woman walked by in clicking high heels, barely coming up to John's shoulder, yelling into her cellphone in a foreign language.

 

Another person on stilts in a purple, pin-striped suit spun a sign and yelled advertisements that were lost in the roar of the crowd.

 

John was in awe.

 

He shook his head, pulling himself from his trance, set his jaw, and marched toward the looming gates before him, bag over his shoulder.

 

The crowd inside the campus was just as unbelievable; students ranging from late teenage years to early adult years bustled about, some looking just at home, and others like they were losing their minds.

 

A few scrambled with textbooks, reading off a list and making sure they had all they needed, some sat on benches and gossiped idly, a few older looking people with staff badges wandered through the crowd, greeting students and welcoming them.

 

John didn't know how long he stood and watched the commotion, but when he finally shook his head and started moving again, he collided almost head on with another student.

 

The other student had dropped three textbooks, and pages of writing went flying.

 

“I'm so sorry-” John started to say, but the other student waved him off.

 

They both began collecting the papers.

 

The other student had dark hair, which John at first had thought to be short, but now he saw was just tied back in a ponytail, he had dark eyes which were a little too intense for John’s taste, though they were behind round spectacles which, paired with the tight and slightly annoyed twist of his mouth, made him look kinda like a cranky old man.

 

When they had collected all of the things, and stood back up, the guy gave a tight smile, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

 

“Sorry about that, I was just admiring…” John waved all around him, and the other student seemed to understand, giving a slight nod.

 

He waved again, and started again in the direction he'd been heading. “Don’t worry about it. Under any other circumstances I would be taking the time to admire as well, but I’m afraid I’m quite busy and absolutely must be on my way - see you around!” He gave a slight wave, and was off.

 

John blinked, trying to process everything the other student had said, in the moment he said it.

 

Nevertheless, he shook off mister fast-talking spectacles, because he, himself, ought to be getting back to getting everything set up.

 

He knew he had to go to the library for books, and go get his dorm key.

 

He decided to get his dorm key first.

 

After asking around, and getting a bit lost a few times, he found himself in the right place.

 

He got his key, tucked it into his pocket, and headed for the library.

 

He pulled up the email on his phone, containing his list of books he would need for the semester, and set off to find them.

 

He passed the student he'd run into earlier, but he seemed very busy scanning for his own books, so John didn't bother him.

 

After a good while, he had found everything he needed, so he made his way up to the line.

 

When he was finally finished at the library, he headed for the dorm building his room was in, bag significantly weighed down with books.

 

After getting turned around several more times, he finally found his dorm, and slid the key into the lock easily, feeling the excitement of the day had mostly passed.

 

When he stepped into the room, he scanned for his roommate and saw him sitting at the head of one of the two beds, earbuds in, eyes glued to his phone screen as he scrolled.

 

He looked up, noticing John, and a smile split his face.

 

He quickly pulled out an earbud and stood, striding toward John; he was tall and slender, with curly hair tied back in a poofy ponytail, a slight scruff on his chin, and dark eyes that were warm and bright.

 

“You are my roommate, _ oui? _ ” He had a thick French accent, John noted right away. He held out a hand. “Marie Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette.” He introduced himself, shaking Johns hand, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “But my friends call me Lafayette.” he winked.

 

John blinked at him for a moment, nodding slightly. “John Laurens.” He shook the extended hand.

 

Lafayette gave an encouraging smile. “Welcome to your home for the next four years, John.” He gestured around the room.

 

John remembered the weight of the books on his shoulder.

 

He gestured to the desk beside the vacant bed. “Is this my desk?” He asked.

 

Lafayette shrugged. “It is now.”

 

“Right. Thanks.” John flashed his new roommate an uncertain smile, dropping his bag onto the desk and beginning to sort through its contents.

 

Lafayette wasn't done though. He plopped himself back onto his bed, and asked, “So, what class do you have first tomorrow?”

 

“English,” John replied blandly. “You?” 

 

“Math,” Lafayette admitted. “What's your major?” he asked.

 

John hesitated. “Biology,” he told him, “You?” 

 

“Political science.” he responded.

 

This caught John slightly by surprise. “That's an interesting major,” he commented. “What are you planning to do, career wise?” he asked.

 

Lafayette smirked; he got this question a lot, John guessed. “I want to be an ambassador.” 

 

John frowned. “Here?” he asked, though immediately he realized that might be an inappropriate question. “Not that you  _ couldn't  _ I mean-” 

 

Lafayette cut him off with a laugh though. “No, actually, not here. But I figured what better place to study than the immigrant nation itself, no?” 

 

John supposed that was a fair enough response. He finished unloading his bag, and realized he was hungry; he'd last eaten halfway through the trip to New York, and in his excitement he'd forgotten.

 

He sent a text to his Internet friend, telling him he was in town; maybe the two could meet up for lunch.

 

He got a response almost immediately, and the two set plans to meet at a diner just a block from campus.

  
  


John walked in the door of the diner, scanning the waiting area for this friend.

 

After just a moment, he noted someone else in similar behaviours, and asked if it was him; he was, so the two sat down, excited to catch up in person.

 

“So, what brings you to the big city, John? Last I checked you were a country kid.” Hercules speculated. 

 

“College, actually.” John admitted. “I'm studying at a university no more than a block from this place.” 

 

Hercules’ face lit up. “Wait, at NYU?” He asked, disbelief in his tone.

 

John nodded, frowning. “Why?” 

 

“Dude! I'm doing my sophomore year at NYU! That's why I'm staying in New York.” a grin broke out on his face. 

 

John gaped. “Wait, really?” he asked, excitement creeping into his tone. “That rocks! What even is your major?” He asked. 

 

“Fashion design,” Hercules shrugged. “I'm from a taylor family.” 

 

John raised his eyebrows. “I'm would not have expected that from you.”

 

Hercules made a mock offended face. “Excuse me have you  _ seen  _ the way I dress? I'd have to be from a fashionable family for me to be  _ this _ good.” He joked. 

 

John rolled his eyes, and the two laughed good-humoredly.

 

The lunch carried on that way, the two easily slipping into conversation after over a year of online friendship.

 

  
When John returned to his dorm, following his much anticipated lunch which had easily exceeded expectations, his roommate was nowhere to be found.

 

This came as a slight relief to John, who preferred solitude a lot of the time.  

 

Not to say he was necessarily antisocial, just that he often found himself unable to make time needed to recharge his batteries.

 

He settled into his desk chair, digging his laptop out of his backpack, which lay in its abandoned place under his desk.

 

He was reading over his class itinerary for the thousandth time when his roommate returned.

 

Lafayette gave him a kind smile and a small wave, before moving to his own desk, probably hoping, as John was, to pass the time as easily as possible.

 

Just when the air in the room was comfortably still once more, John’s phone began to ring.

 

He pulled it out of his pocket to read the caller ID; it was his sister, Martha.

 

John chewed his lip for a moment, before dismissing the call.

 

He hadn’t noticed an extra set of eyes on him, until Lafayette spoke up.

 

“You feel okay  _ mon ami _ ? You look a bit green.” He asked.

 

John wasn’t okay. He had seriously mixed feelings when he thought about what his sisters might have to say to him.

 

Martha had always somewhat been a peacemaker, and she may try and convince John to reconcile with his father.

 

She also may just be checking up on him, or something equally as innocent.

 

“Yeah, fine.” He chewed his tongue, staring at his phone a moment longer.

 

Lafayette frowned. “Who was it?” He gestured to John’s phone.

 

John chewed his lip. He didn’t really want to dump his family drama into someone’s lap, but on the other hand, Lafayette seemed the type who had heard a lot of drama. 

 

“My sister.” John admitted.

 

Lafayette’s frown only deepened. “Bad blood?” He asked.

 

John shook his head. “Not really, not directly, I just- it’s complicated.” He set his phone down on his desk. “She’ll leave a voicemail if it’s important.” He decided, half trying to convince himself.

 

Lafayette seemed to take the hint, and let the subject pass as he went back to his laptop.

  
  


John had trouble getting to sleep that night, the buzz of the day keeping him up.

 

Him and Lafayette talked well into the night, and even after they stopped talking and shut off the lights, John was not graced with proper sleep for hours yet.

  
  


When he woke up, he felt he’d barely blinked and then it was morning.

 

He would  _ not _ say he got a good night’s rest.

 

Martha called him again, and he decided to keep his phone on silent.

 

He had English at noon, he made it in plenty of time, though he felt like he’d crawled out of hell to get there.

 

He almost ran into another student as he walked in, and apologized quickly, before recognising the intense eyes set behind round spectacles.

 

The other student pushed his glasses back up his nose, and gave a small smile.

 

He bowed dramatically, waving John to go find a seat in the auditorium.

 

John rolled his eyes, but walked past nonetheless.

 

Once he’d taken his seat, the other student sat next to him.

 

He looked like he was about to say something, when the professor spoke up, and gained his rapt attention.

 

John also turned his attention to the professor, though he’d be lying if he said his mind didn’t wander occasionally to the student beside him.

 

As soon as the professor dismissed them though, mister fast-talking-spectacles was at the front of the room, talking to the professor.

 

John considered lingering a bit, just to see if he still wanted to talk, but decided against it.

 

So he slipped out of the room and back towards his dorm, where he swapped his English notebook for a sketchbook, and headed back out, this time with the library his destination.

 

He wanted to draw in peace, and while he was certain his roommate would grow on him, his level of fondness for the Frenchman did not yet outweigh the man’s boisterousness.

  
  


John settled into a squishy loveseat with his sketchpad and tapped his pencil idly on his temple.

 

He glanced around the library, hoping to find inspiration in his less than impetuous surroundings.

 

As he scanned his surroundings, he noticed a familiar face and halted his gaze.

 

Right at the moment he rested his eyes, the glint of light reflected off of round spectacles alerted John to a returned gaze.

 

The student raised his eyebrow at John inquisitively.

 

John gave a small smile, and then drew his gaze back to his sketchpad, again tapping his pencil rhythmically against his temple.

 

A few minutes later, still lacking inspiration, John glanced up again.

 

This time the other student was already watching him, and John swore he turned a bit pink.

 

The student had tied up his hair since English, and strands of it fell loosely about his face.

 

John tried not to think about that.

 

After what looked like a short deliberation, the student rose, and moved to sit in the seat beside John.

 

Immediately John was aware of the heat from the other student’s thigh about an inch from his.

 

“You know, in the Netherlands, when you meet someone new you shake hands and introduce yourself. Anything less is considered terrible etiquette.” He said nonchalantly, as if commenting on the weather.

 

“What?” Was all John could manage. 

 

The student looked up at him from his notebook he was writing in, and cracked a smile. He extended a hand. “Alexander Hamilton, nice to officially meet you.” He introduced.

 

John blinked, before returning the smile, and taking his hand. “John Laurens.” He returned.

 

“So, you’re an artist?” Alexander asked.

 

John shrugged. “Not really. It’s just a little hobby. What about you? Working on an assignment?”

 

Alexander shook his head. “I just like to write. Then you had to come down here and distract me.” He teased.

 

John clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh yeah, shame on me for studying in the  _ library _ , on my college campus.” He mocked. 

 

That earned a laugh from Alexander, who, John noted, was really cute when he laughed.

 

John readjusted in his seat so he was facing Alexander, and the latter could no longer see the surface of his sketchpad, putting his feet up on the seat and laying his sketchpad on propped up knees.

 

Alexander raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as John began to sketch.

 

Looked like he’d found his inspiration.


	2. Rugburn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John misses another call from Martha, but he and Lafayette are beginning to get along better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna trick y'all into thinking I'm someone who updates often these first few weeks and then disappear off the face of the planet and leave you hanging...

John didn’t often draw people. They weren’t his favorite thing to draw, and he had a lot of trouble with faces.

 

Sitting there though, with Alexander watching him through thick round spectacles that he refused to push to sit in their proper place, intense dark eyes narrow with curiosity, John had never seen a better face to draw.

 

When it became apparent that John was not going to offer up an explanation for his shifting, Alexander returned to his notebook, scribbling almost non-stop.

 

And the two sat there, the only sound between them pencils scratching softly on paper, and the faint whispers of others shuffling about the library.

 

It was serene, in the exact way John felt it should be.

 

About forty minutes passed, and Alexander had to leave for class, so they said their goodbye’s.

 

John sat there a few minutes longer, his pencil stilled idly in his hand.

 

After a while though, he sighed, and stood.

 

He decided to head back to the dorm.

  
  


When he arrived, Lafayette was at his desk, bopping his head to music playing through his earbuds.

 

John plopped into his own desk chair, and pulled out his phone.

 

He’d forgotten it had been on silent all day. 

 

He had two missed calls from Martha, and a missed text from Hercules.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     1:04pm**

**Hey, do you have plans today(besides class)?**

 

John gave a small smile, remembering his friend now attended the same school as him.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     2:06pm**

**Nope, sorry I had my phone silenced. D’you wanna hang out?**

 

He reclined in his chair a bit, checking all his other notifications (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, et cetera), until his phone buzzed again.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     2:07pm**

**Yeah if you’re down. My dorm is room 376, in the C building.**

 

John stood again, tucking his phone into his pocket before heading back out again, his sketch abandoned.

  
  


He reached Hercules’ dorm with little trouble, and rapped three times on the door which earned an “It’s open!” from Hercules inside.

 

Sure enough, John tried the handle and the door opened easily.

 

The sophomore dorms were the same as the freshman ones, as far as John could tell; two parallel beds, with desks beside them.

 

Only Hercules had pushed the two beds together, and the two desks sat together on the wall the door was on, which made room for a small loveseat style couch against the opposite wall, where Hercules sat.

 

He gave a big smile, and patted the seat beside him.

 

The two desks, despite having identical design, were a stark contrast to one another, John noted as he made his way toward the couch.

 

One was very neat, a laptop sat dead center, a small lamp on one corner, and a few pens and pencils sat in a cup on the opposite corner.

 

The other desk was a mess of papers - what looked like letters - there was a fancy looking stationery set with calligraphy pens and an actual ink bottle, there was a strip of stamps, and two notebooks at the top. 

 

Hercules noticed John looking and chuckled. 

 

“My roommate is a trip. The dude is a neat freak about most stuff, but his workspaces always look like that.” He gestured toward the desk. “And this guy lives and breathes writing, I kid you not. Day and night. It’s weird. He’s great though, we’ve been roommates since freshman year, we’re pretty good friends.”

 

John nodded. “He sounds… Interesting.”

 

Hercules nodded. “What about your roommate? He cool?” 

 

John nodded. “He can be a bit much, he's kinda loud and all over the place, but he's nice. He’s French, English is his second language, but he can speak it well enough to talk your ear off.” John joked affectionately. 

 

Their conversation from then on drifted from topic to topic, until three-thirty, when John excused himself for class.

  
  


He had hoped to run into - hopefully not literally, this time - Alexander again, but had no such luck.

 

He was excited for this class though; Anatomy and Physiology, the class that would be a constant the next three years, which would count most toward his future career.

 

This class began at four on Tuesdays, every week. John was almost buzzing with excitement when he reached his seat.

 

There was a dull chatter filling the room, assuring John he wasn't the only one hanging on the edge of his seat.

 

The hubbub died almost instantaneously when the professor walked in, and the last few stragglers shut up when she tapped sharply on the board.

 

“Now I understand you're all excited, but let's get down to business…” 

 

The lecture was everything John had hoped it would be. The professor, Dr. Adams, was very driven and certain of herself.

 

She engaged the students well, and it was everything John wanted in a professor, because it required rapt attention from the students, and it was how he learned best.

  
  


After class, John was in a good mood, and he decided to go back to his dorm and hang out with Lafayette; he was at a high enough energy level now he felt the man's company would be enjoyable.

  
  


He walked into his dorm room and plopped his backpack onto his desk.

 

Lafayette was sitting at his desk, his computer open to an email.

 

John averted his gaze, so as not to snoop, and Lafayette quickly closed the laptop when he noticed John.

 

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice a bit shaky.

 

John frowned. “Hey,” 

 

Silence fell over them a moment, and John decided to add, “You alright?” 

 

Lafayette nodded. “Family drama.” He concluded simply, before shaking his head and turning to face John. “What about you? Did your sister ever leave a voicemail?” He asked.

 

John dropped his gaze. He hadn't even checked.

 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and saw he  _ did  _ have another missed call from Martha, and one new voicemail.

 

He felt worse about it now then he would have if he'd just picked up that first time.

 

“Yep. She left a voicemail…” John stared at his phone screen a moment, before clicking his phone off and sliding it back in his pocket.

 

Lafayette frowned. “But you are not going to listen to it?” 

 

John chewed his lip. “No I am, I just…” Why was this so hard? Him and Martha had always been close, she was the first person he'd come out to. So why couldn't he stand the thought of speaking to her?

 

Lafayette stood. “Listen,  _ mon amour, _ this is maybe not my place, but I know a thing or two about harsh families, and I can tell from your reaction that this sister is not one you dislike.” He moved to stand closer to John, who still didn't meet his eyes, instead fixing his on the floor. “The longer you sit on this, the harder it will be.” 

 

John chewed his lip a moment, as the quiet hung over the two.

 

Finally, he let out a sigh. “You're probably right. Thanks,” 

 

Lafayette nodded. “You need a moment?” He asked.

 

John shook his head. “I don't know how long this'll be, so I'm gonna go ahead and step out.”

 

Lafayette nodded again, and John made his way out of the dorm building.

 

He knew Washington Square Park was super close, so with a quick Google search, he found his way there and settled into a park bench.

 

With a deep breath, he opened his voicemail and played Martha’s, pressing the receiver to his ear. 

 

“ _ Hey Johnny, it's Martha. I don't know if maybe you got a new phone in the city, or maybe if you just don't want to talk to me - which I would understand, a little too close to home maybe? I don't know. Whatever the reason, if you do get this, um, please call me back, I have some big news and I'd really like you to be part of this chapter of my life. Love you Johnny, talk to you later.” _

 

John kept the phone pressed to his ear for a moment.

 

He played the message again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

What could she have meant by ‘big news’? 

 

John played the message once more, and when he drew the phone down from his ear, he noticed himself shaking slightly.

 

Why was he this way? He was a grown man. There was no reason for him to be getting misty over a voicemail from his sister.

 

He hadn't seen Martha in almost two years. She had moved out, being the oldest, the second she turned eighteen, right after a fight with their dad.

 

John hadn't spoken to her since.

 

“Dammit, pull yourself together.” He muttered to himself, pulling up her contact.

 

With one last shaky breath to strengthen his resolve, he pressed the call button.

 

She picked up on the third ring. “ _ Johnny _ ?” She muttered, sounding uncertain.

 

The sound of her voice made all his work to keep it together crumble. He felt tears welling in his eyes.

 

“ _ Johnny, you there?” _ She asked.

 

John let out a breath. “Yeah, yeah Martha, I'm here.” He answered as steadily as he could manage.

 

“ _ Are you alright? You sound upset.” _ John could hear the concern in his big sister's voice.

 

He laughed a bit. “Yeah, I'm fine. What about you? In your voicemail you said that you had big news?”

 

Martha hesitated. “ _ Yeah, listen can we get together? This is kind of ‘in person’ news. I'm gonna be in New York for a few days next week, maybe we could get lunch or something?”  _

 

John chewed his lip. “Yeah, yeah that sounds great. When do you wanna meet up?” 

 

So the two made plans to meet on Friday, at two so John had time after class, for lunch.

 

After they finished talking, John headed back to his dorm.

 

Lafayette had disappeared again, this time his laptop gone as well, though John was very much too wrapped up in his own thoughts to think twice about it.

 

He stewed in these thoughts for a while - his phone call with Martha, his encounter with Alex - when he glanced out the window to see the sun had begun to set.

 

With a sigh, he plopped back down at his desk to try and get some work done.

 

He pulled out his laptop, but couldn't find the heart to pull up any real work.

 

He sat there a few minutes, opening different assignments and looking over them, before shutting down his laptop.

 

He leaned back in his chair, swiveling to and fro.

 

The ceiling, John noted, had a pencil stuck barely hanging on right above his desk.

 

For some reason John found this amusing.

 

After a moment's consideration, the young man stood and tried to climb up on his desk chair.

 

With much wobbling and readjusting, he managed to stand straight on the swiveling chair without it rolling out from underneath him.

 

He reached up for the pencil, only to discover the ceiling was higher than he thought; he couldn't reach it.

 

Without thinking, John dropped his arms dramatically to his side's.

 

That little jolt was all that was needed.

 

The chair swiveled suddenly, and the world slowed down.

 

John knew what was happening but he couldn't do a thing to stop it.

 

He tried to catch himself, jolting for balance and causing the chair to actually  _ move _ , as it was on wheels, and send him tumbling to the ground.

 

Thankfully, he had not fallen in the direction of his desk but backwards, toward the open carpet.

 

With a groan, he pushed himself up into a sitting position in time for Lafayette to jerk the door open.

 

“John?” there was an edge of panic to his voice. He spotted John on the ground and raised his eyebrows. “ _ Mon ami _ , what happened to you?”

 

John examined his carpet burned forearms, which seemed to be the only external damage he sustained from the fall. He then gestured vaguely at the ceiling. “There's a pencil in our ceiling.” He nodded as if this explained it.

 

Lafayette blinked slowly. He looked at the chair, which still spun slowly, and then back at John. 

 

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

 

John hung his head and nodded slowly. “Yep. That's me. Your genius roommate.”

 

When he met Lafayettes eyes, the Frenchman was still smiling at him, but it was warmer.

 

He stepped over to John and held out a hand to help him up.

 

“That's alright. We’ll blame it in the pencil.” Then he couldn’t contain himself, and busted out laughing.

 

It was infectious; John laughed too, shaking his head. How had he gotten so lucky with a roommate?

 

Under the light, John examined his rugburn closer; he was bleeding on his left arm, where he caught himself but only a little.

 

He went to the bathroom to wash his arms, Lafayette still laughing behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you're having a good time! It really means a lot!


	3. Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has lunch with Martha, during which she tells him some big news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-o!
> 
> Y'all, this story is running away from me. The characters are making their own destiny.
> 
> I promise the plot is coming to something though. I'm working on chapter nine and everything is coming together nicely, promise.

The next week flew by, and before John knew it, it was one in the afternoon on Friday and he was on his way to lunch with Martha.

 

The air was cool, and  a gentle breeze rustled the trees down LaGuardia Parkway, as John paced up to  _ 3 Giovanni. _

 

Word around campus was that  _ 3 Giovanni _ had the best pizza, and only Tuscan cuisine within city limits.

 

John didn’t particularly care about that, but it was within walking distance and a casual sit-down type of restaurant.

 

Despite the nice weather and a thin jacket, John found himself shivering on the walk.

 

Why was he so nervous? What reason did he have for the anxiety that had plagued his feeble attempt at a night’s sleep last night?

 

As the building grew nearer, John steeled his resolve.

 

The doors loomed before him, and his stomach churned.

 

He closed his eyes a moment, and reached for the handle. 

 

“Johnny?”  _ Breathe. _

 

John turned around and was faced with a tempest of emotions that made him catch his breath.

 

There she was - the same brown eyes that had looked on him with unparalleled sympathy; the stern set mouth that invited little questioning; the dark, curly hair he’d played with on many sleepless nights - and it was striking.

 

But there were things that were different -  her hair was longer, down around her shoulders like she had never worn when they were kids; her nose had gotten thinner, and her face had grown into it; and she had a cool, sort of together look - she had grown up.

 

Just like John had.

 

She was watching him with an inquisitive, knowing look.

 

He blinked a couple times, and then nodded. “Hey, Martha.”

 

Her mouth curled into a smile. “Hey, Johnny.”

 

There it was again - the whirlwind of emotions; John embraced her.

 

Still he noticed more differences: she was smaller than him now - he supposed he  _ had _ grown quite a bit since junior high - and she felt more… fragile.

 

With a startled squeak, Martha hugged him back enthusiastically. “Oh Johnny I missed you!” John thought he heard her breath catch.

 

He nodded, still holding her tight. 

 

Someone coughed pointedly, and John quickly withdrew, seeing as they were effectively blocking the doors.

 

When he looked up however, he saw Hercules looking at him with a dash of amusement on his face.

 

"Hey, Herc." John nodded to him.

 

When Martha turned around and saw him, Hercules wasted no time; he extended a hand. “Hercules Mulligan, nice to meet you.”

 

She smiled sideways at John as she shook Hercules’ hand. “Martha Laurens, nice to meet you too.”

 

Hercules glanced at Martha’s hands, and then guessed, “Siblings?”

 

John nodded, and explained. “Hercules is an internet friend of mine who happened to be going to school at NYU with me. Are you meeting someone? ‘Cause you can totally eat with us-” He wondered if Hercules’ presence would make his reunion with Martha less awkward.

 

But his friend shook his head; “I’m meeting someone.” He smiled. “Kinda like a date.”

 

John raised his eyebrows. “A  _ date _ huh? Well go get ‘em!” They fist bumped, and Hercules went inside. 

 

John and Martha hesitated a moment, and then Martha said, “Shall we?” As if talking about a scary ride at an amusement park that they were obligated to ride.

 

John nodded. “Once more into the breach.”

 

Martha snorted as they walked in. “It’s  _ unto _ the breach, nerd.” She reprimanded, and John just scoffed, seeing just the end of Hercules’ tailcoat disappear to the outdoor dining area.

 

The two bantered through the seating and ordering process, and partway into the meal, before Martha’s smile faded and she said to her plate, “There was a reason I wanted to come here though, to talk to you.”

 

John nodded silently, urging her to continue.

 

After a moment of silence, she did. “It-it’s not, bad news, it’s actually - for me - it’s actually really exciting - like,  _ super _ exciting, I mean I don’t think I’ve ever been more - but it’s really, a really big step and-and-and for  _ you _ , it would mean - what-what I  _ mean _ is-is-I-I…” She stared at her plate, arranging her pasta into straight lines on her plate.

 

“Hey,” John watched her closely. When she didn’t look up, he repeated; “ _ Hey. _ ”

 

She looked up and met his eyes, and he gave her an encouraging look. “What’s up, McFly?”

 

The callback to the childhood nickname made her laugh, and she shook her head. “I… I’m getting married.”

 

John raised his eyebrows. “What? That- that’s fantastic news! Martha - wh-that’s crazy! Congratulations!” He stood and went to hug her again.

 

She laughed heavily and relievedly. “I don’t know why I was even worried.” She sighed into his shoulder.

 

After John had settled back into his seat, her face fell a bit. “But there is actually something I wanted to ask you, a-about the wedding.”

 

He gestured her to continue.

 

She fidgeted with her napkin, but seemed better resolved now(or at least she looked at him). “So I don’t know how much you talk to Frances or the others-” the truth was, this was the first time John had talked to any of his siblings since moving out. “-but at home things have… They’ve been... Well, not great.” Now she looked away again.

 

John said nothing. He wasn’t sure what there was to say; he wasn’t about to apologize for being the way he was, and he was fairly certain that isn’t what Martha wanted to hear anyway. He didn’t feel his input was necessary.

 

“Dad… We aren’t talking.” John was surprised to hear this, given his sister’s innate habit to always see good in their father. 

 

Still he said nothing, only nodding.

 

“And I… I don’t think he’s coming to the wedding. I sent an invite, but…” Her silence told John all he needed to know; she’d never heard back.

 

John’s anger flared at this. Martha  _ always _ wanted to resolve issues, always  _ forgave _ , and it  _ still _ wasn’t enough. 

 

Then he realized what was worrying her, and he felt a wave of guilt. 

 

“Wait Martha… You aren’t… Worried I wouldn’t come to your wedding?” He paused and gauged her reaction. 

 

She quickly defended, saying: “Well I know how you and Dad left it, and I would totally not have any hard feelings- I’d totally understand if you don’t wanna risk seeing him, and-and-”

 

John took her hand from under the table. “Marty,” He smiled in what he hoped was a comforting way. “I wouldn’t miss your wedding if Satan Himself was DJing. It would be worth it.”

 

Martha relaxed a little, but she still looked concerned. “I really appreciate it, John. I-there is something I wanted to ask of you… And it’s kind of a big deal, I mean- I mean it isn’t, but…”

 

John shook his head. “What is it? What do you need from me?”

 

Just as he asked this, a frazzled looking server popped up beside them. “Everything alright, you need anything?” Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she smiled down on them with gleaming white teeth.

 

John gave her a pleasant smile, despite the churning anticipation in his stomach. “We’re alright, thank you.”

 

She nodded. “Absolutely.” And she was off to another table.

 

John turned back to Martha, and she blurted out, “Will you walk me down the aisle? I-I mean if-if Dad doesn’t show, which… anyway, would you?” She watched John closely, and his lungs failed him. The room seemed devoid of oxygen for a moment, as John sought to find a new source to fill his lungs with the words to answer the question posed.

 

“Martha…” John blinked, trying to comprehend the tumultuous sea of emotion whose waves crashed over him at this moment. “I-”

 

“You don’t have to answer right now.” Martha said quickly, running a hand through her hair. “Take all the time you need, just let me know before the twentieth - wedding is the twenty-seventh.” She gave a small smile.

 

John frowned, shaking his head. “I would love to.” He said quietly.

 

Martha gave him an even but hopeful look. “You would?”

 

John broke out in a smile. “Yes! I mean… Oh my god, you’re getting married!” All of the stress John had felt over the past week about what news Martha would deliver, he couldn’t have asked for a better result. 

 

As this was truly sinking in to John, he was interrupted by, “John?”

 

He looked past Martha toward the door of the outdoor sitting area, where Lafayette was coming their way, looking pleased with himself.

 

“This is your sister, yes?” He extended a hand. “Marie Joseph Paul Yves Roche Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette.” He introduced dramatically. “But you can call me Lafayette. I’m John’s roommate.” 

 

John got the impression Lafayette enjoyed the overwhelmed look he undoubtedly got from most people when he introduced himself.

 

Martha took it in stride though, and immediately responded. “Martha Laurens.” 

 

Lafayette gave John a knowing look, saying, “I hope all is well with you, though I’m afraid I must return to  _ mis amour _ .” He gestured vaguely to the outdoor dining area, and then nodded. “Have a nice lunch!” And he trotted off toward the bathroom.

 

John watched him go, and then turned back to Martha, still disbelieving. “Marty, Marty,  _ Marty. _ ” He couldn’t help but smile. “Tell me about the lucky fella. Do you have pictures?”

 

Martha pressed her lips together. “Well I  _ do _ , but… well, it’s better if I just show you the pictures.” She pulled out her phone, and the first picture she showed him was her lock screen; there was Martha, in a bikini, laying on the beach sharing a towel with another young, more fit woman.

 

John blinked slowly. 

 

Martha was marrying a girl.

 

“Is… Is that why you don’t think Dad will come to your wedding?” He asked softly.

 

Martha didn’t meet his eyes. “I… I tried to tell him. You know how he gets- he wouldn’t even try to listen.” 

 

John knew  _ exactly _ what she meant, and nodded slowly, as he tried to quell the anger rising in his chest. Martha had done nothing but try to please their father her  _ whole _ life, and this was what she got in return.

 

What a  _ douche. _

 

“But I love Davina.” She sounded suddenly fierce. “And I-I’m going to marry her. And no one - not dad, not Frances, not  _ anyone _ \- is going to keep me from that.”

 

John couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face.  _ There  _ was his fierce fighter of a big sister.

 

Both of their attention was momentarily stolen as a young girl with poofy brown hair and dark eyes knocked a glass off a nearby table, and slight commotion ensued. 

 

She apologized profusely, as another girl with dark hair helped her clean up the mess, and an employee appeared to help, and took over the cleaning.

 

John looked back to his sister, and another thought occurred to him.

 

“Martha, how long have you known?” He asked, hoping she would know what he meant.

 

“That I liked girls?” He nodded, and Martha shrugged. “I… I think I  _ thought _ , for a long time, but then I never really… Explored the idea? And then the way dad treated you when you started to figure it out… Johnny, you’re  _ so much braver _ than I am.”

 

John frowned. “Stupider, maybe.” When Martha looked like she was about to disagree, he shook his head. “I had  _ no idea _ how people would react. I never really thought further than five minutes into the future as far as… I mean-not that I even  _ know _ , I mean I’ve never…” He hoped he wouldn’t have to finish that sentence.

 

Martha looked surprised, but only nodded, and John was suddenly embarrassed. “So tell me about  _ Davina _ .” He quickly changed the subject, and Martha blushed.

  
  


They talked and laughed until their plates were well past empty and it felt so nice to John, to be spending time with his sister. No relationship was quite the same as someone you spend all your time with growing up.

  
  


Before they knew it, John glanced as his phone, and saw it was nearly four.

 

“Oh shit, I gotta go,” He realized aloud. “I have class at four-thirty.”

 

After a quick glance to her own phone, Martha nodded. “Oh yeah, you had better hurry.”

 

He gave her another quick hug, before taking off.

 

This was one of the classes John looked forward to, as he had it with his library companion. 

 

Alexander looked better than he had in the past: his hair was neatly pulled back; he wore a pressed collared shirt and slacks; and his spectacles were nowhere to be seen when he walked into History that evening.

 

“You look… Dapper,” John commented in a hushed voice, as the students settled into their seats. “What’s the occasion?”

 

Alexander smirked. “I have a date tonight.” 

 

Something about that made John’s shoulders feel droopy. “A-a  _ date _ huh? Who’s the lucky person?”

 

Alexander’s smile faltered for a moment. “Just- just this girl from my French- she’s like, super smart, speaks the language really well, and we studied together a couple times - I know what you’re thinking, what a  _ nerd _ , am I right? - but we get along really well, and I was already friends with her sister from- um, another- from another school thing. And she’s really pretty and sweet, and we listen to the same music and have a couple movies in common and stuff. But- well, the point is,” He wrapped up, “I… I  _ really _ like her.”

 

John nodded, though his stomach had a strange sinking feeling. “That’s great, Alexander. And she said yes, so she probably likes you too, huh?” He tried to sound optimistic.

 

Alexander nodded enthusiastically, and looked like he was going to say more when the professor walked in, and he snapped his focus to the lecture.

 

Just like him.

 

With a shake of his head, John turned his attention to the professor as well, and the two didn’t speak for the rest of class.

  
  


As he headed back to his dorm, John’s thoughts about ancient Mesopotamian architecture were interrupted by a hand on his arm.

 

He turned around to see a kindly, young girl looking up at him. “You dropped this.” She stated cheerily, holding out his ID. She was terribly familiar.

 

John frowned, drawing his hand to his pocket where it must have slipped out. “Wow, thank you.” He took it from her. “I - yeah, that could’ve been bad.” 

 

She swept a lock of curly hair out of her face, and smiled. “No problem. See you ‘round!” She bounded off.

 

John watched her go for a moment, wondering briefly where he recognized her from, and then turned and headed back to his dorm. 

 

Nothing wildly interesting about that encounter.

  
  


When he entered the dorm, he found Lafayette laying on his bed on his stomach, his legs kicked up in the air, texting with a smile on his face.

 

John raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but Lafayette took no notice of him as he settled into his desk chair.

 

After a few minutes, John decided Lafayette was not going to share unprovoked, and the young man was desperately putting off his reading for English.

 

He spun his chair to face his roommate, and in the small dorm propped his feet up on the foot of the bed.

 

The sound was enough for Lafayette to look up at him. 

 

“Problem,  _ mon ami _ ?” He asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

 

John gestured to his phone. “Who’re you chatting to so...” He gestured at his roommate. “Like  _ that _ ?” He finished, in true 90’s gossip girl form.

 

Lafayette’s face reddened slightly, as he looked down to hide the smile that was creeping onto his face. “Someone.” He met John’s eyes, and smiled. “Someone I met.” He repeated, as if this clarified everything.

 

John blinked at him. “That’s all I get? Someone you met?” A thought occurred to him. “Is that who you were at lunch with? I bet I saw them around the restaurant!” The student thought back to the outing, and considered the people who he had seen.

 

Lafayette shook his head. “You’ll never figure it out that way; we were sitting outside and you inside, my friend.” He said smugly. “And I-I wouldn’t want to get your hopes too high; it’s really nothing serious.”

 

John did his best to look wounded, and Lafayette just rolled his eyes.

 

“Despite appearances, I’m a very private person,  _ amour _ .” He shrugged. 

 

John was incredulous. “ _ You _ ? Wow - keep telling yourself that.” He chuckled, when Lafayette looked mildly offended.

 

“What? I  _ am _ .” He drew himself up to a sitting position. “Why would you doubt that?”

 

John shook his head. “Think about that.” 

 

Lafayette looked like he was about to protest, and then sighed good-humoredly. “Okay fine. But I’m private about this.” His smile faded, and he looked at John a little more seriously.

 

John watched him a moment longer, wondering if he was going to say more.

 

When he didn’t, John nodded. “Okay. Alright then.” 

 

He started to move his chair back toward his desk, when Lafayette spoke up again. “How was lunch with your sister, then?” He asked.

 

John’s good mood returned immediately, and he spun back toward his roommate. “Awesome! Dude, she’s getting  _ married! _ ”

 

Lafayette’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s fantastic  _ ami _ .” He smiled back. “That’s why she called you then?” He asked.

 

John nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah and she-” He had to bite back the anger towards their father. “She wants me to walk her down the aisle.” He couldn’t help the pride he felt at the words. 

 

Lafayette’s expression faltered. “There’s not - forgive my snooping - a father in the picture?”

 

John bit his lip. “It’s… Complicated.”

 

Lafayette glanced at the clock. “Well, it is not even six on a Friday. I don’t know about you  _ ami _ , but I’ve got all the time in the world.”

 

John considered him a moment. He shouldn’t really be dragging his upbeat roommate into his drama. His life hadn’t been horrible or anything, in fact John had had it pretty easy growing up, the real trouble hadn’t started until he was about fifteen.

 

On the other hand, Lafayette had thus far proven himself an apt listener, and what was the harm in sharing? He obviously was prepared to listen.

 

John smiled to his roommate, and then shook his head. “My dad is very… Traditional, you could say…” John realized the controversy behind the issues he had with his dad. What if Lafayette agreed? Most people tended to keep those beliefs close to themselves, for fear of agitating or being seen as intolerant.

 

What if Lafayette was the same way?

 

“What I mean is… Him and Martha, they’ve butted heads. And she…” Wasn’t it better to know now, if Lafayette did feel that way? John had to be direct. For Martha’s sake. “She’s gay. She’s marrying a girl, and my dad - won’t even talk to her, I mean it’s horrible. She moved out when she was eighteen, because they had a fight. I was too young to know why, but I always assumed they resolved whatever the issue was…” He shook his head.

 

He looked up to Lafayette, who was watching him with intense interest, like John had yet to see.

 

“The point is, there’s always been this huge taboo around-” He gestured vaguely. “And the worst part? She still  _ wants _ him to come to her wedding. She was worried, though, that I wouldn’t go if he was there, because - well, we didn’t leave it on the best of terms.” He decided to leave out the part of the story that involved him - his own  _ personal _ reasons for disliking his dad - as this conversation was about Martha. 

 

Lafayette watched him with that same direct look, as if carefully considering all of John’s words and weighing them against his own thoughts.

 

After a moment, when John was beginning to become uncomfortable, he nodded slowly. “And you? Why did your father and yourself leave on bad terms?”

 

Cornered. “It’s just the way he is.” John obfuscated. “We argued a few times before, and then… Some big questions were raised, and… Well, I didn’t like the answers I got. Then, I left.” He shrugged. 

 

Lafayette looked sympathetic now, though also more intense even then before. “Again, stop me if I pry too much, but, what kind of questions?”

 

John considered his roommate, chewing his lip. “I don’t… Important ones. Moral questions. I’m sorry, Lafayette, I just-”

 

The Frenchman put his hands up. “Don’t sweat it, John. Really,” He smiled. “It is your business.”

 

John smiled thankfully. “Man, how’d I get so lucky in a roommate?” He punched Lafayette in the arm playfully, and he laughed.

 

“I know, I’m such a gift.” He chuckled, and John rolled his eyes.

 

“Yeah, don’t let it go to your head.” He turned his chair back towards his desk. “Now, I really do have to do this English assignment.”

 

“Oh, come on.” Lafayette laughed. “It’s Friday night, and you’re gonna do  _ homework _ ?”

 

John turned back to face him again. “Yes, because  _ last _ Friday, I thought I was so smart not doing my homework, and then before I knew it, it was Monday again. And I hadn’t done anything all weekend, besides sleep and goof off with you. So, tonight, I’m gonna do my homework.”

 

Lafayette blew raspberries. “Come on. We should go out! We should go  _ drink _ .”

 

John raised his eyebrows. “I can’t go out and  _ drink _ , I’m…” Suddenly, John realized a critical piece of information he and Lafayette had  _ not _ shared. “How old are you?” He asked.

 

Lafayette’s expression faltered. “Just turned twenty-two.” Then his eyes lit up. “You aren’t old enough to drink, are you?” 

 

John wished he hadn’t said anything.

 

His silence seemed enough confirmation to Lafayette, who laughed hard. 

 

John nodded. “Yeah, laugh it up, but that means you’re short one drinking buddy.”

 

Lafayette shook his head. “You don’t know  _ what _ that means. How old  _ are _ you?”

 

John looked down. “Eighteen.”

 

Lafayette looked suddenly pitying. “Aww, you’re practically a baby!” John rolled his eyes at this, but it didn’t deter Lafayette. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do.” He glanced at the clock. “It is now six-thirty, yes? So I’m going to the store,” He grabbed his jacket. “I’ll be back at about eight, this gives you plenty of time to complete your reading, no?”

 

John shook his head. “I don’t know what kind of convoluted-”

 

“Is that enough time?” Lafayette asked.

 

John stared him down for a moment. 

 

When it was clear Lafayette was not going to change his mind, John sighed. “Yes, that’s enough time. But-”

 

“No ‘but’s!” The student commanded cheerily. “When I get back around eight, we-” he gestured between the two of them “-are going to drink. Until then,” He grinned wickedly. “Drink lots of water,  _ mon ami _ , for you are in for a  _ night _ .”

 

He gave John one last nod as he pulled the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo yeah.
> 
> Lams? I thought this fic was about John and Martha's friendship.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Leave me a comment to make my day!


	4. Raise A Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of alcohol lubricated fun between friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter guys! Especially after you had to wait a whole week for it ^^' The next one will be up sooner! And I believe it to be on the longer side because a lot has to happen XD
> 
> Keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times, and enjoy the ride!

 

How had he gotten roped into this? He was pretty sure it was illegal, firstly, and secondly, his father had drank John’s whole life, and it didn’t seem to improve his quality of life at all. In fact, it seemed to do the opposite.

 

John leaned back in his chair, and was again reminded of the pencil stuck in the ceiling, threatening to fall on him any day.

 

He spent the next hour not getting  _ any _ work done, worrying about what would ensue that night.

 

He glanced at the clock, and found it was already seven-thirty, and an idea occurred to him; maybe he didn’t have to face Lafayette alone.

 

**To: Lafayette     7:34pm**

**Is it alright if I invite someone?**

 

After sending off that text, he waited a moment, and then drafted another.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     7:35pm**

**How old are you btw?**

 

He lay back in his chair, looking at the pencil in the ceiling. How had it even gotten there? He imagined someone had thrown it…

 

He glanced to his desk, where a ceramic mug containing many pencils of different shapes and sizes stood.

 

He was considering it when his phone buzzed.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     7:36pm**

**20\. Y?**

 

John considered this a moment, when his phone buzzed again.

 

**From: Lafayette     7:36pm**

**Someone you trust sure. Drink water!**

 

John couldn’t help but chuckle at this. 

 

**To: Lafayette     7:37pm**

**ty and will do**

 

He took a drink from his water bottle, before returning to his phone.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     7:38pm**

**you wanna come drink ?**

 

John waited anxiously for Hercules’ answer.

 

Hopefully, he wouldn’t get the wrong impression of John.

 

The young student reached to the jar of pencils on his desk, and drew one back, considering it carefully.

 

He leaned back to look at the ceiling again.

 

As a sort of test, he threw it up and caught it carefully.

 

His phone buzzed again.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     7:40pm**

**what the hell man…**

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     7:40pm**

**Why not. when should I head over?**

 

John smirked. 

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     7:41pm**

**You can now, my roommate will be back in like 20 mins with smth to drink**

 

Hercules sent back a thumbs up, and John went back to considering the pencil.

 

He leaned his chair all the way back, aiming the pencil at the ceiling.

 

For the country boy, a risk like this took a lot of consideration, and he was still pondering it when a soft knock came at the door.

 

He almost fell off of his chair, mustering an, “It’s open!” And the door opened as John regained his balance, admitting Hercules, with a gentle smile. “Thought I’d contribute, too.” He held up a hand with a six pack of something John guessed was alcoholic.

 

“Make yourself at home. We don’t have a couch, not like you cool sophomores, but you can sit on my bed,” He gestured, “Or in my roomie’s desk chair. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

 

Hercules set the drinks down in front of John with a nod, and then took up residency in Lafayette’s desk chair.

 

“So here’s the deal,” John addressed him once he’d settled in. “I’m going to be real honest here, and don’t make fun of me, but I’ve never, like… Drank, before. I mean I’ve had  _ alcohol _ , I’ve just never like…  _ Drank _ drank, you know?”

 

Hercules nodded, an amused look on his face. “Alright. Oh yeah, how old  _ are _ you?”

 

John pressed his lips together. “Eighteen.”

 

Hercules looked shocked. “ _ Eighteen _ ? John, that’s adorable!” He laughed. “Okay. What were you gonna say, though?”

 

John narrowed his eyes for a second, and then shook his head. “I was just gonna say, my roommate is a little… On the wild side, I guess you could say. Anyway I’m just worried under his sole influence I might… Overdo it, a bit. I mean, I’m pretty susceptible to peer pressure.” He admitted, and Hercules seemed to understand.

 

“Oh man, you want me to mom friend you?” He laughed. “I mean, I’ll try but I’m not gonna fight you for it.”

 

John frowned. “No, I wouldn’t imagine you’d have to-”

 

“You don’t know how many times I’ve been asked to help people not overdo it, and then had them decide they wanted to once they started drinking.” He interrupted. 

 

John blinked. That was not reassuring. “Yeah… Yeah nothing drastic.” He agreed, and then remembered; “By the way, how was your  _ date _ the other night?” He asked.

 

Hercules looked down, a smile creeping onto his face. “I mean… It was pretty fantastic, um…” He shook his head. “Not like…  _ Anything _ else, to be honest, I’ve never… Known someone quite like that.” 

 

John smiled. He was glad his friends were finding people, even if he felt a twinge of sadness, that wasn’t fair to them.

 

“What about you?” Hercules asked. “How was lunch with your sister?”

 

John almost jumped up with excitement. “It was great! I mean,  _ she’s _ great - I haven’t talked to her in years, and she came to talk to me because she’s  _ getting married _ .” He still couldn’t handle the way those words sounded coming out of his mouth.

 

Hercules looked impressed. “Really? That’s awesome!” He offered John a fist bump, and he accepted. “When’s the wedding?”

 

“The twenty-seventh.”

 

“This month?” Hercules asked disbelievingly.

 

John nodded. “And the reason she came and asked me in person, rather than just sending an invite, was because… Well, she wants me to walk her down the aisle.”

 

Hercules gaped, and John still beamed with pride.

 

“Is there - is your - does she…” He seemed to be considering how to word this, but John was fairly certain he already knew what he was going to ask, since Lafayette had wanted to know the same thing.

 

“My dad’s a dick.” He hadn’t meant to spit the words as harshly as they had come out, but his anger over the wedding situation had come to a boiling point. 

 

Hercules looked taken aback, and John sighed, shaking his head.

 

“I mean, obviously he’s my dad and I love him or whatever.” He ground his teeth. “But… My sister’s whole life, she’s done nothing but try to appease him - and he’s not an easy man to make peace with - but now, he won’t even respond to her wedding invitation.”

 

Hercules frowned. “Is it possible there was some sort of misunderstanding? If the two had a good relationship-”

 

John was shaking his head. “No he’s not coming. And it’s because he-” John wasn’t sure he could bring himself to explain. “Well, suffice it to say they’ve had a difference of belief recently, and I don’t know why she even  _ wants _ him at her wedding-” John stopped himself, shaking his head.

 

Hercules nodded. “I can understand that.” A smirk crept onto his face. “I also believe that you are going to be  _ fun _ tonight.”

 

Just when John was going to ask what he meant by that, Lafayette barged in. “I wasn’t sure what your poison would be,  _ amour _ , and so I figured it should-” He stopped dead when his gaze fell on Hercules. 

 

The two stared at each other, both looking rather like deer in the headlights, until Hercules said confusedly, “Gilbert?”

 

Lafayette raised his eyebrows. “Wh-”

 

“ _ You’re _ John’s quirky roommate. Of course.” He leaned back in his chair, facepalming.

 

John frowned. “So you guys know each other?” He asked, excited; that meant less awkward small talk.

 

Hercules was watching John carefully, and Lafayette seemed to be considering Hercules.

 

John was lost, confused as to why they were looking at each other like that, let alone him. “Where do you know each other from?”

 

Now they both looked at John, and then to each other.

 

“We met,” he said slowly. “In class, but we didn’t really talk then, and then…”

 

Hercules gave a small shake of his head. 

 

“Um,” Lafayette backtracked. “We met in class, and then… We got to know each other over text?” He claimed surreptitiously.

 

John looked between them in disbelief for a moment, before shaking his head. “Okay, that is the  _ least _ convincing thing I’ve ever heard, but you don’t have to tell me.” He raised his hand to silence Lafayette’s protest. “What did you bring back?”

 

The Frenchman considered a moment, and then took the change of subject. “I figured since you were so brave to admit you couldn’t go  _ out _ drinking, it may as well be fun. So, we’re making mixed drinks.” He pulled out two glass bottles - one large and clear, the other small and dark - and set them down on the desk. 

 

Hercules whistled, raising his eyebrows “Vodka? You tryna kill the poor kid?”

 

Lafayette’s chuckled lightly. “No, see we’re  _ mixing _ . Tonight, we’re drinking Russian Cremes.” He pulled out a bottle of sweet cream.

 

After Lafayette had mixed the drinks with many comments from Hercules, and John watching fascinatedly, Lafayette grabbed a deck of cards and returned to the empty space between the beds, where he sat on the floor.

 

Hercules brought the bottles, and the three settled in.

 

Lafayette fanned the cards on top of the bottle, as John sniffed his drink suspiciously.

 

There was no way this could end well, was there?

 

“If you want to taste that before we start playing, you’re welcome to.” Lafayette smirked knowingly, and John rolled his eyes.

 

He took a drink, expecting it to burn like his father’s whiskey.

 

To his surprise, it didn’t burn. At least, not quite the same way; it burned in his mouth, and the taste left something to be desired, but the ingredients did compliment each other, and it didn’t leave him feeling like he’d lit his chest cavity on fire, so that was a good sign.

 

He gave a small cough, and set the drink down. Lafayette explained the rules of the game, as he evened out the fanned out cards, and Hercules nodded knowingly.

 

“And lastly,” Lafayette wrapped up. “If you knock down the ‘mushroom’-” he gestured to the cards precariously atop the bottle, “-than you have to take a shot from the bottle.” He pulled a single shot glass from the shopping bag.

 

_ Great, _ John, the clumsiest person he knew, thought.  _ This’ll end well. _

 

The game began, and after the first few rounds, John was feeling more confident.

 

A little ways into the game, and Hercules was the first to knock down the ‘mushroom’. They took this opportunity to re-mix all of their drinks, and Lafayette stood to deposit the sweet cream in the fridge.

 

A few rounds later, Hercules knocked down the cards again, and was shaking his head before they even fell. He knew.

 

John couldn’t help but laugh at his predicament, until the very next turn - which was his - he managed to knock down the deck.

 

“Dammit.” He muttered nervously, as he tried to pour from the bottle into the shot glass. 

 

If nothing else, he did that pretty smoothly. He took a deep breath, before downing the shot.

 

Lafayette and Hercules clapped for him - as if he’d performed some miracle - and then Hercules spoke. 

 

“Okay idea,” He started, visibly collecting his thoughts. “So when  _ I _ played this game, in high school - don’t, Gilbert don’t you judge me,” He chuckled, as Lafayette clicked his tongue in mock disapproval. “When we played, you had to take a  _ swig _ from the bottle if you knocked down the cards.” He looked between the other two, as if waiting for their feedback.

 

“Oh, what the hell?” John smiled mischievously. “Why not?”

 

Lafayette surveyed them uncertainly. His eyes landed on John. “You sure  _ ami _ ?” He asked.

 

John threw both his middle fingers to the sky. “It’s college, man. And it’s  _ Friday night _ , so let’s throw caution to the wind!”

 

Even as he said this, John noted that his water bottle was empty, and he was due for a refill.

 

He struggled to his feet. “Anybody else - water?” He asked, and Hercules handed him his glass. 

 

“Thanks, man.” He nodded seriously to John, who rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen to refill them.

 

When he made it back to his seat, Hercules and Lafayette were speaking in hushed tones, and Hercules smacked Lafayette’s arm when he saw John.

 

“John! John…” Lafayette muttered absentmindedly, and the youngest of the group eyeballed his friends.

 

When neither of them seemed willing to explain, they simply returned to the game.

 

It was only a few rounds later that Lafayette knocked down the cards again, and took a long, heavy swig from the bottle.

 

He blinked, his eyes shining a bit, and nodded. 

 

Again, the refilled their mixed drinks.

 

They refilled them one other time that night, before John felled the deck again.

 

He eyeballed the bottle suspiciously, but when he went to take a drink, found that the previous alcohol he had consumed had dulled the sting a bit… Damn, if he wanted to he could probably chug this bottle…

 

“Whoa, take it easy there p-pal…” Hercules warned, and John set the bottle down, seeing that he had visibly lowered the level in the bottle.

 

How was there only a quarter of the bottle left? He blinked, bewildered. 

 

“Well,” He laughed. “That-there I go, I guess.”

 

The three fell into conversation, their drinks forgotten as the scattered cards on the ground around them, and were all having a fine time when John’s phone began to ring.

 

It was Martha.

 

His laugh died in his throat, as he stared at the caller ID.

 

“Oh,  _ shit _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo 
> 
> What's old Johnny boy gonna do about this one? Martha and him were getting on better terms, so it's unlikely going to be something negative she's called him up for, right?
> 
> On the other hand, she's still a big sister and John has been drinking. Will he be able to hide it from her? Will he try?
> 
> Find out soon!
> 
> (Also thank you guys for all your comments and kudos, your support means the world!!)


	5. The Resident Advisor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night previous catches up to the boys, and John gets off to a wrong foot with their floors RA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the inconsistent updates! I've been all over the place as of late haha
> 
> The document for this work is nearly 35000 words! I don't know how it got that long but y'all are an inspiration!! Thank you to everyone who's commented on and kudos'ed this!

 

“Who is it?” Lafayette asked curiously.

 

“Martha. It’s  _ Martha _ !” This felt urgently bad.

 

No, why should it be? She knew John was an adult, and they were on good terms now.

 

Still, why would she be calling him at - he checked the time - nine thirty?

 

He supposed that wasn’t ridiculously late.

 

“What do I do?” He whispered, as if Martha might hear through the phone.

 

“Answer it!” Hercules hissed back. 

 

So, he did exactly that. “He-hey, Marty.” He tried to sound casual, as he stood, making his way to the kitchen area for some privacy.

 

“ _ Hey, Johnny… Are you alright? Did I wake you? _ ”

 

John shook his head. “No, yeah- I’m good- I mean fine, like- you didn’t wake me. What’s up?”

 

She was quiet a moment. “ _ If you say so... You still sound weird. But I was just calling to ask - since I didn’t send you a real invitation for the wedding, are you bringing anyone? And also, chicken or steak? _ ”

 

John couldn’t help but smile. “You called me at nine-thirty at night to ask about chicken or steak?”

 

Again, Martha was quiet. “ _ I can call back later, if you’re busy- _ ”

 

“No! No I’m- not doing  _ anything _ .” He emphasized the last word, hoping she would really believe him. “Chicken, and…” He thought about it for a minute. “I… I’m not, probably gonna bring a date.” It came out sounding more resigned than he’d meant, and Martha heard it.

 

“ _ Are you sure you’re alright, Johnny? You sound  _ really _ down. _ ” She pointed out.

 

“Me? Psshh,  _ never _ . Party guy, me. I’m never down. Always… up, like, _ so _ up.” He insisted, mentally facepalming.

 

There was another, terrifying moment of silence, before Martha said in a measured tone, “ _ John, are you drunk _ ?”

 

John froze.  _ Oops _ .

 

“Yes.” He said, and quickly added. “But I’m in my dorm, with my friends, we aren’t gonna go anywhere, no one is driving-”

 

Martha laughed a bit. “ _ Alright, alright. You’re an adult, Johnny, and I’m not gonna give you shit for having fun with your friends. As long as you guys are being safe.”  _ He could almost hear her smile. “ _ Have a good night Johnny, and stay hydrated! _ ” She encouraged him.

 

“Will do. Love you Marty!”

 

“ _ Love you too, Johnny! _ ” 

 

And John hung up.

 

That hadn’t been nearly as painful as he’d feared.

 

When he walked back into the living room, Hercules and Lafayette were speaking in whispers again, and got quiet when he walked in again.

 

With some liquid bravery sitting in his stomach, John outright asked; “What are you guys talking about? And how did you really get to know each other?”

 

Hercules looked extremely uncomfortable for a moment, and Lafayette was staring at John, as if shocked he’d noticed them whispering.

 

Then Lafayette snapped his gaze back to Hercules. “His sister is  _ gay, amour. _ ”

 

Hercules’ eyebrows shot up. “The same sister who’s getting married?” He swayed dangerously where he sat, and John felt his face heat up.

 

He shot Lafayette a dirty look, and the Frenchman looked surprised.

 

Then he nodded to Hercules in confirmation. “That’s why my dad won’t come to the wedding.” He barely whispered the words, but the anger that had festered within him towards his dad dripped like venom from every syllable.

 

He despised the man.

 

The room was silent for a long minute, before John took a deep breath and sat back down.

  
  


Conversation resumed as normal - as normal as three drunk college students can be - until John found his mind wandering.

 

He watched the two sitting there, chatting, so at ease with one another, and began to reflect on himself.

 

Why was he so  _ angry _ with his dad? It wasn’t like the two had fought, John wasn’t even… Well, as far as he knew.

 

He’d never been in love with a boy, but he’d never been in love with a girl, either.

 

He’d never dated anyone, or been in any sort of serious romantic relationship excepting his elementary school ‘marriage’ to a classmate, Martha Manning.

 

But in school, he’d always found himself rather more focussed on  _ school _ than he was on girls or boys or really anything.

 

He’d known for a long time that he wanted to be a doctor, and knew that such a career required exemplary grades and scholarly excellence, and so that was what he’d payed attention to.

 

Now, in college, beginning his adult life, he realized he’d never really explored himself.

 

Who was John Laurens?

 

“I think I’m gay.” John wasn’t really sure where the confession had come from, but both Lafayette and Hercules looked at him.

 

He didn’t meet their eyes, but instead frowned at the floor. 

 

“I mean…” He shook his head. “I don’t know  _ why _ I just said that out loud. Sorry if that’s, like, _ fucking _ weird to say in a room full of other guys I just… What if I am, and I never…” 

 

He continued to frown at the floor, while his two friends exchanged looks.

 

John let out a semi hysterical laugh, as their silence made him regret opening his mouth. “ _ God _ .” He rubbed his eyes, as he continued to laugh and shake his head. “What time is it? We should be getting to bed soon, huh?”

 

He still didn’t look at either of them as he stood, running a hand through his unruly hair as he made a beeline for the restroom.

 

“John,” Lafayette sounded stern, and John stopped in his tracks, but didn’t turn to face him.

 

“Yeah?” He called over his shoulder.

 

He heard a shuffling behind him, and suddenly Lafayette was coming out in front of him, his arms crossed and his eyes fiery as John was forced to meet them. 

 

“You better know  _ damn well _ ,”  _ Here it comes. _ “That there is absolutely  _ nothing _ \- and I mean  _ nothing _ \- wrong with that.”

 

John’s chest felt thick and heavy, as he blinked. “Of-of course not, Martha…”  _ is different _ . “I-”

 

Lafayette didn’t let him finish, grabbing his arm. “Come sit back down,  _ mon ami _ .” The Frenchman practically dragged his roommate back and almost threw him back to where he was sitting.

 

John’s breath felt heavy, as the two watched him, though now he felt vindicated, and met Hercules’ eyes.

 

He saw no judgement there - no discomfort, or disgust - only mild curiosity, as if wondering what would come out of John’s mouth next.

 

“And I would never - you can’t tell anyone. I mean I don’t even know what -” John shook his head. He had no words to stress the importance of their discretion. “ _ No one. _ ”

 

The two were still watching him, and John moved his gaze to Lafayette, and his expression softened.

 

“You guys are really, honestly, like my best friends.” He slurred. “I mean- it means so much that…”  _ You’re decent people?  _ How he had been planning on finishing that sentence he didn’t know.

 

He felt a wave of guilt. He thought back to Martha, telling him how brave he was. Was he, really? He had barely - inebriated as he was, even - been able to tell the two people he definitely would have considered his best friends.

 

And of course, even now he wasn’t really sure. He hadn’t the experience to know for certain.

 

The room was quiet for a few more seconds, before Lafayette licked his lips slowly, casting a look to Hercules, who nodded.

 

“You wanted to know what we were talking about when you left to talk to your sister  _ ami _ ?” He asked.

 

John nodded, glad for the change of subject.

 

Lafayette smiled softly. “We’re dating.” He gestured between himself and Hercules.

 

John’s eyebrows went up, and a smile slipped across his lips. Before he knew it, he was laughing.

 

Then he was laughing so hard, he had to lay back against the bed behind him. Of  _ course _ .

 

The universe had a very specific way of orchestrating John’s life, but this one was new.

 

_ Point, Universe. _ John thought, a little bitterly.

 

When he was finished laughing, his eyes watering, John sat up and hoped he hadn’t offended either of them.

 

Their expressions said they were amused, and slightly worried, but not offended.

 

“Sorry- I’m sorry, really- I’m not laughing at you, I just-” He shook his head. He looked back up at the two, and they were looking on him a little more sympathetically, and both were smiling. “I’ve had a long week.” John admitted.

 

Lafayette nodded knowingly. “Well, you’re certainly right about one thing,” He decided.

 

“What might that be?” John asked, taking a long drink from his water bottle.

 

“It  _ is _ about time for us all to be getting to bed.” He looked at Hercules. “I’ll walk you back to your dorm?” He offered.

 

Hercules shook his head. “It’s alright, I’ll make it fine.”

 

Lafayette frowned. “Nonsense.” He stood, and offered his elbow in a very gentlemanly fashion.

 

Hercules rolled his eyes, and for a moment it looked like he would refuse again, but when he ment Lafayette’s eyes, he sighed.

 

He stood and took Lafayette’s arm, and the two were off.

 

After they left, John quickly went to brush his teeth and the rest of his nighttime routine, before shutting off the lights and laying down.

 

As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

  
  
  


The next morning, John woke to a heavy pounding on the door.

 

His head throbbed, as he opened his eyes to a blurry, spinning room. “One-one second!” He rasped, locating his water bottle and taking a heavy swig, seeing Lafayette seemed unbothered by the loud banging.

 

John forced himself to his feet, carefully balanced himself in the now brightly sunlit room, and made his way to the door.

 

He opened it to find an angry face, crossed arms and a tapping foot, all under a thick bush of orange hair.

 

“This is  _ your  _ dorm, right? You’re not just someone from the party?” He huffed irritably.

 

John frowned. “What p-? No, yeah this is my dorm. What’s wrong?”

 

The boy tossed his poofy hair, and then extended a hand. “Thomas Jefferson, I’m the Resident Advisor for this floor,” He introduced, shaking John’s hand tautly. “I received a noise complaint last night, your neighbor said it sounded like you were having some sort of party.”

 

John was about to protest, Thomas Jefferson’s gaze moved behind John, and a smug look formed on his face. “I see the reports were true.”

 

John followed the redhead’s gaze to where the drinks Hercules had brought sat. 

 

“Wine coolers?” He leaned in, so his breath was hot oh John’s cheek. “What are you, thirteen?” He sneered.

 

John lifted a hand to his head, as he leaned away from the taller student. “Okay, what is it you need?” He asked, drowsily.

 

The RA looked taken aback. “Wow, hungover much?” He jeered. “Look, all I’m saying is, keep noise in this dorm below fifteen decibels after eight PM, huh? Oh, and,  _ who _ did you say you were?” He spat, an accusatory edge to his voice.

 

John’s head was clearing, and he was starting to get over Thomas Jefferson’s attitude.

 

“Alright, you know what you can do with those fifteen decibels,  _ Mr. Jefferson _ ? My name is John Henry Laurens, and you can  _ shove _ those  _ fifteen  _ decibels  _ righ _ -”

 

“John! Hey I-I-I was  _ just  _ gonna remind you- Oh hey, Thomas!” Lafayette had gotten put together remarkably quick, and was now standing at John’s side, addressing the RA. “Yeah, John I wanted to-to ask you if you worked on the project after I passed out last night?”

 

Now John was angry, half asleep,  _ and _ confused. This was not a good way to start his day. “What? No! What are you-?!”

 

“The  _ project, _ ” He all but physically elbowed John. “We were up  _ late last night _ ? I had a  _ couple of drinks _ ?” He gestured innocently to the wine coolers.

 

A bit late, John realized what was happening. “Oh.  _ Oh _ , oh yeah, that,” he cleared his throat. “The uh- no I-I didn’t get anything else done. After you… went to bed.”

 

Lafayette looked like he was going to kill John after.

 

Thomas Jefferson, the Resident Advisor, had seemed to soften at Lafayette’s presence. “Oh,  _ this _ is your dorm, Gilbert?” He asked crisply, giving John a disdainful look.

 

John sneered back, and Lafayette really  _ did _ elbow him, towards his back where Thomas Jefferson couldn’t see.

 

John caught his breath, and put on some semblance of a polite smile.

 

The redhead looked smug, and turned back to Lafayette. “Like I said  _ before _ , you’re not in any trouble yet.” His tone softened as he spoke to Lafayette. “Just keep the next ‘study session’,” He did air quotes, and John had to bite down on his tongue to avoid making a snide comment. “Just keep the noise down. And the, uh,” He turned back to John with the most condescending look the young man had ever seen. “ _ Underage drinking _ ? Keep that to a minimum too. Wouldn’t want to get into any, uh,  _ legal trouble _ .” 

 

He sniffed indignantly, and said to Lafayette, “See you ‘round, Gilbert.” Gave John one last, almost  _ pitiful _ look, and turned around and left.

 

John took a few deep breaths, and- nope, it didn’t work.

 

He let out a guttural, sort of yell of indignance and rage, then turned around and stormed back into the dorm, where he plopped back down onto his bed, brought a hand to his head and tried to sip his water.

 

His head was pounding - what was from the hangover, and what was from the encounter he’d just had, John didn’t care to differentiate.

 

He knew it was coming. He had made the connection that Lafayette and Jefferson were friends, but it had already been too late; John had already said something wickedly insulting, and Jefferson was  _ obviously _ the type to take things very personally.

 

He shook his head as Lafayette sat down on his own bed, across from John.

 

The younger was sitting with his head down, just trying desperately to sip on water.

 

“John?” Lafayette asked, his voice strange.

 

_ Breathe. _ “Yeah?” He didn’t look up, trying to act casual as he sipped his water.

 

“How much of last night do you remember?” He asked.

 

John looked up, confused; this was not what he’d expected Lafayette to bring up and seemed a little… Out of context. “Everything, I think, I mean…” He thought back. “Yeah. Yep, I…” He looked down, feeling his face heat up. “I remember everything.”

 

The room was silent a moment, and John remembered the resolution he’d had last night.

 

He looked up and met Lafayette’s eyes. The only thing he saw on his roommate’s face was mild curiosity and some underlying anxiety, that John wasn’t sure the cause of.

 

“Something wrong?” He asked, and Lafayette raised his eyebrows. 

 

“No, not-” He shook his head. “No.” He repeated more firmly. “There isn’t.”

 

John was taken aback by his tone, but simply returned to his water. “Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that was short! I know not much happened, I'm thinking about posting the next chapter later today or tomorrow since really you don't get anything in this one, but six has got some shit and introduces a soon-to-be-pivotal character 
> 
> ^-^ Thank you for reading! Really come shout some fandom things at me on Tumblr @QueenMythicBitch


	6. The Librarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Lafayette are still avoiding one another, though John finds a new acquaintance with whom he finds an interesting type of entertainment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter again ^^' As I said before, I've got kind of a lot going on and I'm having a lot of trouble with pacing, especially not having really a beta to keep me on track is something new for me tbh
> 
> Thank you all for getting this far! Let's see John making confusing decisions, shall we?

 

The next couple of days went by uneventfully, John and Lafayette didn’t see each other much on the weekend, because Lafayette was usually out, and the first two days of the week they both had a lot of classes, and John preferred to attend his homework at the library rather than the dorm, sometimes not coming back until the library closed at eight, at which point he promptly went to bed.

 

So John and Lafayette did not suffer each other’s presence, longer than a few minutes at a time, until Wednesday, when John only had one class (in the morning), and Lafayette only two (one in the morning, and one in the afternoon).

 

After his morning class, John didn’t want to go back to the dorm - he’d had a perfectly coincidental run in with his roommate and a sneering RA on his way to class - for fear what he’d find.

 

He wasn’t sure beating up the RA would get him expelled, but he knew it wouldn’t look good on his med school applications.

 

He shot off a quick text to Hercules.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     11:03am**

**Hey, I don’t have any other classes today, wanna hang later?**

 

He waited in the hallway, leaning against the wall.

 

He was also disappointed because the last two weeks he’d had Alexander in that class, and he wasn’t there that day.

 

It was an advanced historical analytics class, and he had been surprised to find the other boy show up there the week before last, but he had not been disappointed.

 

John’s phone buzzed.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     11:05am**

**Yeah! Gilbert is here, him and my roommate have French together at noon but you and me can still chill then**

 

John’s heart sank.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     11:05am**

**I actually just realized I have a project due that I better get to the library to work on**

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     11:06am**

**Sorry! Next time**

 

John felt bad for lying, but the last thing he wanted to do was start drama. Why would there be drama? They were all adults.

 

John shook his head. At least that meant Lafayette probably wouldn’t be back until at least one; John had the dorm to himself until then.

  
  


When he arrived back at the dorm, he pondered his sketchbook sitting on his desk, but decided against it; he pulled out his computer instead.

  
  


Until about twelve fifty, he worked at his computer, before packing up and heading down to the library.

 

After a moment’s consideration, he swiped his sketchbook to bring with him.

  
  


When he reached the library, he was disappointed to see no messy bun or spectacles, and hear no fast paced whisper in intense conversation with the young, bushy haired girl working the library counter.

 

He wished he’d gotten Alexander’s number during Monday’s class.

 

He settled into a loveseat on his own, and sat there staring at the blank page for nearly half an hour, before sighing and giving up.

 

He pulled out his laptop, and began working on his actual school assignments.

  
  


He hadn’t felt like really any time passed, when the student working the register called out to him.

 

John turned to her, frowning.

 

“The library’s closing in thirty minutes… I-I have to say that, just there’s usually not very many people, so I’ve hardly had to actually say it.” She laughed nervously. “Sorry just- yeah.” Her uncertain smile was so familiar...

 

John smiled. “Of course, thank you.”

 

She looked back down at some book she was reading behind the counter, and John studied her, trying to figure out where she was familiar from…

 

_ Click _ . The ID girl… But then, she’d been familiar when he had seen her then…

 

“I-I’m sorry to bother you,” He spoke to her, as he stood and walked up to the counter so he wasn’t craning his neck to look at her. “I just- you are really familiar…”

 

She was nodding, so John listened. “Yeah I- I’m in your History class? I handed you your ID that one day.” She smiled cheekily.

 

John blinked. “Yeah, I thought…” He studied her a moment longer, and then he figured it out. “ _ 3 Giovanni? _ Were you there Friday, for lunch?” 

 

Her face lit up red, and she looked down. “Yeah- I knocked a glass-” she demonstrated by swinging her hand over the surface of the counter. “-right off of my table.” She chewed her lip.

 

John smiled sympathetically. “You and the people you were with- you guys were on it though,” He tried to console. “Got cleaned up real quick.”

 

She looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah, we did huh? I was out with my sisters,” She explained. “My oldest sister works there, she gets an employee discount.” She admitted slyly.

 

John nodded. “That must be nice. I have a couple sisters, but we don’t talk much since I moved to the city,” He admitted. “You guys spend a lot of time together?” He asked.

 

The girl nodded. “Yeah we do, my family is from the city, so it’s real easy to see each other. Where’re you from?”

 

“South Carolina,” He held a fist to his chest. “Country kid, through and through.” He admitted. “New York City is… Something else.” He said simply.

 

“So, obviously you guys are far apart, but the way technology is, it’s real easy to keep in touch. Why don’t you call up those sisters of yours? I’m sure they’d be super excited to hear from you.” She gave him a sweet smile.

 

John felt his face heat up a bit. “You know I- I don’t want to unload any drama or anything.” He resolved, although unloading his family drama seemed to be the main thing he’d done over the past couple days.

 

She looked sad for him. “Well, family is worth looking past it, right?” She suggested. “My sisters and I, we used to fight like you would not believe. But, after my sister Eliza went off for college… Well, we realized that most of our disagreements weren’t even over things that were all that important.”

 

John felt like he’d been slapped. He blinked a couple times. Who  _ was _ this girl?

 

“What’s your name, by the way?” He asked her.

 

“Peggy.” She extended a hand to him. “Peggy Schuyler.”

 

John smirked. “John Laurens, nice to officially meet you, Peggy.”

 

She blushed, and quickly looked away. “You too.” She uttered, and then glanced at the clock. “Oh- the, uh, library closes in fifteen minutes.” she warned him, a smirk on her face.

 

John nodded. “When did you get so wise, Peggy Schuyler? Is it like, a superpower from working in the library?”

 

She laughed out loud at this, and quickly covered her mouth, and giggled behind her hand a moment. “I don’t know, I’ve got some wise family. It’s probably just from seeing my sisters go through all kinds of dumb sh-stuff,” She shrugged. “That’s how I got the understanding without the battle scars.” She smiled warmly. “What about you, John Laurens? What’s your superpower?”

 

John frowned. “My superpower? I don’t know, sleeping?” He joked. “Eating? I don’t… Scoring well on tests?”

 

Peggy looked pointedly bored at him. She fake snored. “Oh, sorry, did you see that? I fell asleep waiting for you to name a superpower. C’mon! I know there’s something you’re gifted with.” She was studying him with intense dark eyes, and John was a little bit startled by the intensity of them.

 

He blinked a couple times, and shrugged, with a resigned chuckle. “I don’t have one.” 

 

Peggy narrowed her eyes at him. “Alright then, John Laurens. We’ll figure out your superpower soon enough.”

 

John wasn’t sure what to think of that. “What about your sisters? What are their superpowers?”

 

Peggy smiled warmly as she thought of her sisters. “Well, Angelica, my oldest sister, is probably the most responsible, um… Oh! Knowing what other people need. Like, it is crazy, one time when I was little, I was really craving chocolate - we couldn’t have it at the house because my other sister, Eliza, is allergic - anyway and Angelica had just gotten her license, so she calls me out to her car and we go for a drive. I hadn’t told anyone that I was craving chocolate, because I didn’t want to make Liza feel like she had something to apologize for,”

 

A sentiment that John hadn’t thought much about before; she didn’t want to make her family feel like they had anything to apologize for.

 

“And we went to the  _ chocolate factory, _ and it was one of the best days of my life.”

 

John thought that people craved chocolate often enough that this was just as likely a happy coincidence, but he wasn’t going to argue. 

 

“Okay, and your other sister? Eliza?”

 

Peggy nodded. “Her name’s Elizabeth, but we always call her Eliza or Lizzy.”

 

John nodded. “What’s her superpower?”

 

Peggy thought for a minute. “She’s a really strong empath - she’s super good at picking up on people’s emotions. It’s freaky.”

 

John nodded his understanding, his heart tugged by how Peggy smiled absentmindedly as she thought of her sisters.

 

Maybe John should call up his sisters…

 

“What about yours?” John frowned, and Peggy clarified; “Your sisters. How many do you have?”

 

“Three,” He told her. “And one brother.”

 

Peggy nodded. “And their superpowers?”

 

John rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, my oldest sister Frances, was always quiet, good at like… Avoiding conflict? I don’t know that that’s a superpower…” He tried to think back to his early childhood, when Frances had really been around. “She was really comforting, like, she gave really good advice… I guess she’s wise too.” He gave Peggy a smile.

 

“Then Martha - she’s the one I’ve talked to the most recently, I actually saw her on Friday - she’s just a couple years older than me, but man,” He couldn’t help but smile. “She is ever the peacekeeper. I swear that woman could calm a dragon. Mary is younger than me… She’s…” A wave of guilt swept through him; he didn’t really know. He’d been away from home as much as he could even in his last years living at home, and through high school thought of little other than his schoolwork.

 

Even his siblings didn’t cross his mind all that often.

 

He blinked, and his vision went blurry. No  _ way _ was he going to cry right now. He blinked it back surprisedly, and turned his face from Peggy, trying his best to be subtle.

 

“Um, Mary I don’t really know she… She’s got a big heart.”

 

Peggy was quiet a moment longer, and he was grateful for her consideration.

 

“And your brother?” She asked.

 

“Hank? He’s a little turd.” He smirked. “I mean, I love him, but try living with a thirteen year old boy and then come back and tell me they aren’t all little turds.” 

 

When he looked back at Peggy, she was laughing hard at this, and blushing as she covered her mouth with her hand.

 

She glanced at the clock again. “The library closes in five minutes.” She said when she had finished laughing.

 

John nodded. “Guess I should pack my stuff up then, huh?”

 

Peggy nodded, a disappointed look on her face. “Probably.” She agreed.

 

John gave her another smile, before moving to where he’d been sitting and unplugging his laptop.

 

After all of his stuff was in his bag, when John headed for the door, and was going to stop by the counter to say goodbye to Peggy when she slid a piece of paper across the counter to him.

 

It had a ten digit cell number on it.

 

It also had what John thought to be a lipstick stain on it.

 

She blushed when he looked at her, but he just smiled and took it. “Thank you, Peggy Schuyler.” He made finger guns at her as he left, and she made them back.

 

They were gonna make just fine friends.

  
  


The next morning, John would have class at eleven, again at one, and again at four.

 

His eleven in the morning he was excited for, because he had Alexander in that class and after not seeing him in class or all day at the library yesterday, John wanted to ask where he had been.

 

When he settled into his seat in the lecture though, he watched the room carefully.

 

Most of the students settled into their seats; still no Alexander.

 

The professor walked in; no Alexander.

 

The professor began his lecture; yet still, no Alexander.

 

At this point, John sat back in his seat. Where was he?

  
  


The whole lecture, John had trouble focussing, because he was busy thinking about where Alexander might be.

 

When the lecture ended, John moped back to his dorm, and when he was outside he heard Lafayette laughing loudly from inside. 

 

He braced himself for his roommate to try to talk to him, as he seemed in high spirit, and opened the door to be faced with curly red hair almost blocking Lafayette’s face.

 

Thomas Jefferson was sitting on Lafayette’s bed with the Frenchman, and they were talking like old friends.

 

Both of them turned to John when he walked in - Jefferson with disdain, Lafayette with mild surprise and a mix of other emotions John didn’t bother trying to interpret.

 

Instead, the young student grabbed his sketchbook and his notebook for his next class, and turned.

 

He heard Lafayette call after him as he slammed the door, but he was tired and irritated and didn’t want to hear what his friend had to say.

 

Not while Thomas Jefferson was there to look pitifully down on pathetic little John Laurens.

 

The thought irritated him so badly, he wasn’t looking where he was going, and almost ran into a girl rushing frantically in the other direction.

 

They both stopped just inches short of colliding, and muttered “I’m sorry” and “excuse me” in different variants, spun around each other, and set off in the directions they’d been going.

 

John headed for the library. He decided whenever he saw Alexander next - assuming he did at all - he would ask for his number. 

 

Maybe having somewhere he could go, a friend he could go to who didn’t know his other friends, would be good for him.

 

When he reached the library, he didn’t see Alexander, but Peggy seemed excited to see him.

 

“John!” She hissed, beckoning him to her; he supposed she had to whisper, to set a good example.

 

He didn’t want to be snappy with Peggy. He took a second to collect his thoughts, and then walked over to her counter. “Hey,”

 

“Okay so I’ve been thinking, and you know how  _ you _ told me my superpower?” She was beaming at him.

 

John couldn’t help crack a smile. She had been thinking about it. “Yeah?” He urged her to continue.

 

“Well, maybe you can’t tell your own; someone has to tell you.”

 

John nodded; that made enough sense to him. “So are you gonna tell me?” He asked hopefully.

 

Peggy smirked. “I can’t tell you right now, I don’t know what it is. But, maybe, if we had dinner together, then I would know.” She suggested.

 

John was a little surprised. “Sure, that could work.” He agreed.

 

Peggy’s face lit up. “Great! Um, Friday, six-ish? At  _ La Lanterna _ ?”

 

John smiled. “Yeah, sure. It’ll be fun.” 

 

He turned to walk away, and heard her add finally, “It’s a date!”

 

That phrase stuck with him as he found a seat in his normal area.

 

_ It’s a date! _ Was it a date? 

 

He texted Hercules again.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     12:18pm**

**Hey, you busy?**

 

He wasn’t sure how that conversation had happened. 

 

He reran it in his head. It hadn’t seemed like a date when she first asked.

 

_ Maybe, if we had dinner together, then I’d know _ . That was all she said! How was John to know?

 

She probably didn’t think it was a date. Right?

 

His phone buzzed.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     12:20pm**

**Nope, what’s up?**

 

John shot back quickly.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     12:21pm**

**Wanna hang out? I’m in need of some sage advice**

 

His response was almost immediate.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     12:21pm**

**Sure, come on over**

 

John hadn’t even unpacked his bag, so he just picked up and went up to Hercules’ dorm.

 

When he reached the door, he knocked, and recieved in return a loud  _ shush _ -ing sound, and then the door eased open, and Hercules beckoned him in.

 

The bed closer to the wall was occupied, and a mess of sweaty hair was all that stuck out from under the covers.

 

“My roommate is super sick, sorry if you’re, like, a germaphobe.” Hercules whispered. “We can go out if you want.”

 

John shrugged. “I’ll probably only be a minute, I have class in-” he checked his watch. “-half an hour, so if you wanna just walk down the hallway-”

 

Hercules was nodding, “Yeah, let’s go. We wouldn’t want to wake him.”

 

Once they were outside, John started back last night at the library, and then recounted the conversation he’d had that day, finishing with, “Is that a date?”

 

Hercules whistled. “That’s… Some girl, John. I think you’ve got yourself a date.”

 

John groaned.

 

“What’s wrong? She’s not your type?” Hercules asked.

 

John chuckled. “You could say that. Hercules, what do you remember of last Friday night?”

 

Hercules shook his head. “I was plastered, man. I don’t remember anything after I knocked down the cards the second time.” He admitted.

 

John nodded. Of  _ course _ . 

 

“Why? Did we talk about…” He looked fearful for a second. “We didn’t talk about  _ girls _ , did we?” He asked, and John laughed lightheartedly.

 

“No, Hercules, we certainly did  _ not _ talk about girls. But it doesn’t matter,” Maybe everyone could just forget. Maybe John himself could just forget about his little moment of panic that night. It didn’t matter. School mattered. “I was just going to call back to something. But how- what do I do? I didn’t mean to schedule a date…” He mumbled.

 

Hercules stopped and faced John, as they had come full circle back to his dorm. “Okay, you came to me for sage advice, are you ready for it?”

 

John nodded, though he wasn’t certain quite how ready he actually was.

 

“Whatever you do, make sure it ends clean. She’s the librarian, right? You’re gonna be seeing a lot of her. Don’t give her a reason to hate you.” He smirked at John’s bewildered expression. “Good luck, bud!” He clapped John on the shoulder, and returned quietly to his dimly lit dorm room.

 

John watched the closed door a second longer, considering that rather vague and quite frankly obvious advice, before turning and heading to his next class.

 

He could hardly pay attention, thinking about his dinner with Peggy. What if she really thought it was a date? What could he even do?

 

Would he be able to explain the misunderstanding? Or would she be upset at that?

 

Peggy seemed pretty reasonable, she would likely understand if he told her he’d misinterpreted her invitation.

 

But would she be disappointed?

 

Or was he worrying over nothing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Leave me a comment to make my day/week and fuel my ego so I write more decisively XD
> 
> Or, if you'd like to reach me less publicly, come hmu on Tumblr @QueenMythicBitch


	7. Dinner Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John goes on a date with Peggy Schuyler.
> 
> Or, is it a date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's July! The first update of the month XD
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

 

These thoughts plagued his sleep that night, and the next day was the dinner. He had class at four-thirty, so he would have half an hour to get ready and to the restaurant that night.

 

When he walked into the classroom, he was actually a little surprised to see Alexander already sitting in his regular seat.

 

“Hey! You’re back.” John didn’t know why, but he felt a pang of guilt seeing Alexander, when he’d just been thinking about his date plans with Peggy.

 

Alexander had his own girl he was dating though, and even if he didn’t, it was ridiculous to even compare the two things.

 

Alexander shook his head as John approached. “Shh,” He pleaded, his hair barely tied up in a messy bun.

 

John’s own hair was slicked back neatly - date or no date, going out, he may as well look presentable.

 

“Where you been, Specs?” John asked, good-naturedly.

 

“I am deathly ill.” Alexander groaned, and as John got closer he could see the evidence; the other teen had bags under his eyes, his skin was a little sallow and pale.

 

“Oh shit,” John muttered. “Been out sick?” He asked.

 

Alexander nodded. “I feel like I’ve already died a physical death.” He muttered, leaning heavily on his hands.

 

John watched him sympathetically, as Alexander shook himself off and sat up straight when the professor walked in.

 

Despite how he was feeling, Alexander payed impeccable attention in class, and John was even caught off guard by a question or two because he was paying a little too much attention to Alexander, and how much attention  _ he _ payed.

 

When the class was over, Alexander did not zip down to speak to the teacher, instead he lumbered toward the door.

 

“Wait!” John called after him, remembering the promise he’d made himself.

 

He caught Alexander right as the young adult made to leave the room. He turned around and gave John an uncertain look. “What’s up?” He asked, clearly wanting nothing more than to be in bed.

 

John gave a nervous laugh, that sounded unnaturally high pitched, and Alexander raised an eyebrow at him.

 

John shook his head. “Exchange numbers? That’d make it easier for us to get in touch.”

 

A sly smirk slipped onto Alexander’s face. “Right. Absolutely. This way, I won’t have to spend all day every day in the library, just  _ praying _ you’ll show up and rescue me from my homework with your chiseled jaw and heroic sketchpad.”

 

John sputtered in an attempt to respond to that, and in this time, Alexander pulled out a small slip of paper, jotted down ten digits, and handed it to John.

 

Words failed the young student, as he watched Alexander  _ wink _ , and then bound off.

 

Alexander had said he had a girl, right?

 

John shook his head. It was a ridiculous thought.

 

He headed back to his dorm to get ready for dinner with Peggy.

 

When he walked in, Lafayette was there alone, sitting on his bed with his laptop on is lap, looking very upset.

 

When he saw John, he quickly closed the laptop, and set it aside. He gave John a hopeful smile.

 

_ What the hell? _ John was feeling a strange mix of emotions because of his encounter with Alexander, and his upcoming dinner with Peggy, and figured this was one thing he could simplify.

 

“I’m not mad at you,” John was half realizing it as he said it out loud.

 

Lafayette looked taken aback for a second, before he nodded. “I didn’t think you were mad,” The Frenchman said slowly.

 

John pressed his lips together. “I won’t lie, I’m  _ no _ fan of that Thomas Jefferson though. Obviously I’m not gonna tell you who to spend time with, but…” He shook his head. “Give me a heads up if he’s here?”

 

Lafayette nodded. “That makes sense. It really is too bad you and Thomas got off on the wrong foot-” 

 

But John was shaking his head. “I don’t want to right the foot. I don’t-” He shook his head, and Lafayette seemed to understand.

 

As John was getting ready, Lafayette spoke up again. “Where’re you going tonight?” He asked, some of his old gossipy curiosity returned.

 

John ran a hand through his hair, and quickly condensed what had happened with Peggy.

 

Lafayette raised his eyebrows. “Is this a date then,  _ ami _ ?”

 

John shrugged. “I really have no clue.”

 

Lafayette grinned. “Oh boy. Good luck out there,” He shook his head. “Don’t break her heart, John. You’re going to see a lot of her this year.”

 

John sighed heavily. “That’s exactly what Hercules said.”

 

Lafayette laughed. “Great minds, John!”

 

John shook his head as he made his way out the door. “Whatever you say.”

  
  


As he walked down the sidewalk toward  _ La Plantera _ , John felt better than he had in a few days; he’d spoken to Alexander and Lafayette, gotten Alexander’s number and resolved whatever conflict had built between him and Lafayette.

 

That made it already a pretty good day. He could handle whatever this dinner could throw at him, even if he had to send someone else to check out his library books for the rest of term.

 

When he walked into the restaurant, he didn’t see Peggy at first, and checked his watch; it was five-fifty.

 

He had made the reservation - it was the fancy type of place where you had to do that, and he’d been relieved to be able to make it only a day in advance - and so walked up to the edge of the counter, where he was out of the way and could watch the front doors.

 

After a few minutes wait, there she was; all dolled up, her hair down, and a big smile on her face when her eyes landed on John.

 

She was positively glowing.

 

“Wow, Peggy, you- I mean- just… Wow.” He stuttered. He cleared his throat. “You look… Amazing.” He told her.

 

He could definitely see that she looked amazing, maybe it wasn’t too bad if this  _ was _ a date?

 

He addressed the man behind the counter. “Uh, Laurens, party of two?” He asked, and the man flipped through a notepad a moment, before nodding. 

 

“Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Laurens.” He turned toward the seating area.

 

“Oh no- we aren’t…” One look at Peggy, who was watching John considerably, and he decided to let it go.

 

She gave a soft smile, and the two were seated. 

 

The host informed them that a waiter would be with them shortly, and John thanked him before turning back to Peggy.

 

She really did look cute; her hair was in a neat sort of side ponytail, and her full face of makeup was done.

 

She sparkled and glittered from her hair, neck, ears, and along the collar of her rather low-cut dress.

 

John didn’t pay too close attention to that.

 

They ordered without saying anything to each other.

 

After their food arrived, they made small talk, and Peggy asked him a couple questions about his school, friends, family, et cetera.

 

John laughed nervously. “So what do you want to know? How’re you going to diagnose my superpower, Peggy Schuyler?” He asked casually.

 

She put her elbows up on the table, resting her head on her closed fists, and studied John.

 

“I think, you’re super power, is doing what people expect from you.”

 

John frowned. “Did you just call me predictable?”

 

Peggy flushed a little. “That’s not what I meant. I think you do things  _ because _ people expect them from you. Like, for example, I expected you to go on this date,” She gestured around the restaurant. “And so, you did. I’d be willing to bet, that if I  _ expected _ you to pay the check by yourself, you would. I think people expect a lot of you, and you just act the way you’re expected to. You use those expectations as guidance for your choices in life, but it detracts from  _ you _ . Was there a you to begin with? Or have you always lived up  _ exactly _ to everyone’s expectations of you?”

 

John felt a little insulted, a little confused, a little hurt, and  _ very much _ called out.

 

He had no response, and just stared at her, his eyes wide.

 

Peggy smiled. “You didn’t know this was a date when you agreed, did you?” She asked gently.

 

John hesitated and then shook his head.

 

Peggy nodded, still smiling though there was a sad look in her eyes. 

 

She glanced out to the terrace. “Come with me.” She instructed, standing and heading out the French doors to the outdoor seating.

 

John was surprised by how few people were outside - though he supposed it was a colder night - there was one elderly couple sitting outside, and Peggy had walked to the opposite side of the platform, and was leaning on the rail, looking out over the city.

 

John paced up next to her, and she didn’t look at him.

 

“Look at this city,” She smiled serenely. “Listen to the sounds of life… This is the greatest city in the world.”

 

She suddenly was facing John, her face in his shoulder and her arms around him.

 

She was… hugging him? John was confused on more separate occasions in the presence of Peggy Schuyler than he could count.

 

He hugged her back - she was so much smaller than him, he could just wrap his arms around her - as he wondered what sort of things were going through her head.

 

She retreated slightly, her wrists crossed over the back of John’s neck, and she looked into his eyes.

 

She reached up and kissed John. 

 

His heart jumped into his throat - what was she doing? - and he froze.

 

She seemed to take his lack of response encouragingly, and wrapped her arms soulfully around his neck.

 

John’s senses returned to him and he removed his arms from her back. That small reaction was all it took, and Peggy backed up, watching his expression analytically.

 

Her face fell a bit, and her shoulders sagged. “I- I’m sorry, I just-”

 

John shook his head. “Don’t- don’t sweat it. But Peggy, I think you should know-”

 

“You have a girlfriend.” Peggy drew a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God, do you? That’s so-!”

 

“No! No, I don’t have a girlfriend…” 

 

She looked relieved. “What, then?” She asked.

 

John chewed his lip. “It’s just… My life is really complicated right now, and-”

 

“Complicated as in you  _ do _ have some sort of relationship?” She asked.

 

“No! I just- I’ve always sort of… Put school first. I’ve never…” Her eyes widened. 

 

“Are you telling me you’re a  _ virgin _ ? What the hell do you think- the first date?!”

 

Now it was John’s turn to be frightened. “No! I mean yes but- no I’ve never even really, like… been in a relationship.”

 

Peggy’s expression softened. “Aww, John that’s  _ adorable _ .”

 

He was a little tired of hearing that. “Well, I still do put school first, and I-”

 

He was interrupted by another of Peggy’s fake snores. “What? Oh sorry, your boy scout speech bored me to sleep. C’mon, John! It’s college! Live a little.” She challenged him.

 

He rubbed the back of his neck, as his face heated up. “Yeah, I don’t know-”

 

“Come  _ on _ , if you spent your whole high school career focussed on school - which I’m assuming you did, since you ‘put school first’ and never ‘had a real relationship’ - and you do that same thing in college, when are you gonna figure yourself out? After college is over? Then you’ll be on the professional workforce, and then it’s too late.”

 

She had unfaltering logic there. “I guess…” He admitted reluctantly.

 

“So live some.” She grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled him in for another kiss.

 

What had he gotten into?

 

Her hand went into his hair, and John uncertainly pushed her back again.

 

She looked up at him earnestly. “I- I’m sorry, Peggy, I think you’re fantastic - you’re super funny, and smart and insightful, but...”

 

“But you’re not into me.” She nodded. “Okay.” She took a hefty breath. “Let’s go finish our dinner.”

 

John was surprised by how well she took it, and followed her back to their table.

 

They talked very little for the rest of the dinner, until they were getting ready to leave, and John had already paid the check.

 

He stopped her before they parted ways on the sidewalk. 

 

“Peggy… You need to know this,” He began slowly. “You’re amazing. Like, I know it sounds like I’m just saying this, but someone is going to seriously appreciate all the beautiful facets of your personality, and when that day comes, you’re gonna be so glad it wasn’t me. By then, you’ll have realized what a dumbass I am.”

 

This earned a slight chuckle from her, though when she smiled up at him, she still had that painful look in her eyes. “I had you pegged wrong,  John Laurens; I did  _ not _ expect that.” She punched him playfully in the arm. “You’re gonna make a girl really happy someday though, with that sappy shit.” She stuck out her pinky. “Friends?” She offered.

 

John smiled warmly at her, and hooked his pinky around hers. “Friends.” He agreed, and headed off in the direction of his dorm building.

  
  
  


When he crept into the room after dark, desperately hoping the RA wouldn’t peek down the hallway before he got inside, he felt warm inside despite the chill of the night air.

 

Lafayette was sound asleep, and John was sufficiently exhausted after the way he’d slept last night, and the events of the day, and plopped into bed and fell asleep almost instantaneously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they're gonna be just fine. John's gonna be just fine. He's figuring it out, right?
> 
> Also sorry for any errors I didn't catch, I don't have a beta right now sooo that's awkward lol.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment to make my whole ass WEEK!


	8. Yeah, Science!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John and Alex start to really get to know each other.
> 
> But John refuses to let himself forget; Alexander had a /girl/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit's really startin' to pick up in this chapter sooo yeah
> 
> Fasten your waist belt, keep all extremities inside the vehicle at all times, and enjoy the ride!

The next morning, John awoke to his phone buzzing, and Martha’s name came up on caller ID.

 

He picked up groggily, with, “Hello?”

 

“ _ Hey Johnny, sorry if I woke you I just- I’m having a sort of wedding emergency, and was wondering if you might be able to help?” _

 

John rubbed his eyes, sitting up. “Yeah, sure Marty, whatever I can do. What’s going on?”

 

“ _ So this wedding is two weeks out and my tailor fell through. I’m seriously freaking out. I remember you saying that that friend of yours - I believe his name was Hercules? - he’s studying to be a tailor, right? Do you think he could tailor a wedding dress?” _

 

John thought for a second. “Yeah, yeah his whole family is.” John recalled, considering he second question.

 

“ _ Great! I mean, I only need one tailor, but I’m gonna be in New York Tuesday and Wednesday, does he have a shop? I’d love to be able to support a growing business.”  _ She pondered.

 

John laughed lightly, and the glanced at the analogue clock on their wall, to see it was nearly eight-thirty. “I don’t know if he has a shop for sure, but I know he tailors all his own clothes, so I’m sure he has a workspace. I’ll talk to him,” He glanced at Lafayette’s bed to see the Frenchman was gone. “Today, for sure, and let you know? I don’t know if he does womens clothing, but I’ll find out.”

 

“ _ Thank you Johnny! You’re a lifesaver! _ ” She told him.

 

He smiled. “Yeah, no problem. Nothing is gonna ruin your day, McFly, I’ll personally ensure it.”

 

She was quiet a moment longer, and then said quietly. “ _ Thank you, John. It really means a lot.” _

 

John pressed his lips together. “Yeah, anytime.”

 

As soon as they were off the phone, John sent a text to Hercules.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     8:33am**

**Hey, have you ever tailored a wedding dress?**

 

John went to the bathroom to perform his morning routine, and halfway through brushing his teeth, his phone buzzed again.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     8:34am**

**Yeah, that was most of the orders we got at the shop**

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     8:34am**

**Why?**

 

John smirked. 

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     8:36am**

**My sister needs her dress tailored, her tailor fell through. She was wondering if you had a shop, and your rates**

 

He finished brushing his teeth, and then opened the miniature fridge and pondered it’s contents; a six pack of Dr. Pepper, a six pack of wine coolers still, half a bottle of sweet cream, and a cream cheese packet.

 

Typical college dorm mini fridge, he guessed.

 

He was saved by several consecutive texts from Hercules, in rapid succession.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     8:36am**

**!!!**

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     8:37am**

**I have like,,, a workshop**

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     8:37am**

**Only for you. For your sister alone**

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     8:38am**

**And tell her not even to worry about it, I might ask her to buy material if we need any but as far as work comp I wouldn’t have her even thinking of it this close to her wedding.**

 

John couldn’t believe how well that had gone.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     8:39am**

**Perfect! I’ll let her know and give her your number? She’ll be in town Tuesday and Wednesday of this week**

 

John noticed a piece of paper sticking out of the pocket of the pants he’d worn to dinner last night, where they hung by his bedside (he didn’t have all that many pairs of nice pants, so he treated them well).

 

He reached for it, and quickly saw it was a phone number.

 

_ Alexander _ ’s phone number. Something about that thought made John’s stomach feel weirdly heavy again.

 

His phone buzzed again in his pocket.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     8:40am**

**Works for me! I’m free in the morning on Tuesday and the afternoon on Wednesday**

 

John moved through his contact list, and composed another text.

 

**To: Marty McFly     8:40am**

**CONTACT: Hercules Mulligan**

**1 attachment**

 

He sent her the text, and added.

 

**To: Marty McFly     8:40am**

**And he said not to worry about hourly wages, just materials you might need**

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     8:41am**

**Awesome. Thank you!**

 

John considered the phone number in his hand. Should he text Alexander? He knew how sick he’d been lately…

 

Then, an idea occurred to him.

 

He grabbed his coat and wallet, threw on his shoes and was off.

He pulled up the nearest convenience store on his phone, and got quick directions.

 

On his way he texted Alexander.

 

**To: Alexander Hamilton     8:46am**

**Hey, it’s John Laurens. Wondering if you were feeling any better today?**

 

While he was at the store picking up a few key things, Alexander texted back.

 

**From: Alexander Hamilton     8:51am**

**I’m super tired, and a little sore from laying in bed for almost a week straight, but if you’re trying to get me out of this godforsaken room, I think my roommate and his boyfriend are going to have sex, and if I have to be here for that I will literally die.**

 

**From: Alexander Hamilton      8:51am**

**Don’t get me wrong, I love them both but no one should have to go through that. Please. Take me away from here.**

 

John smirked down at his phone.

 

Before texting Alexander back, he texted Lafayette

 

**To: Lafayette     8:52am**

**You up?**

 

He was still browsing the canned soup section when Lafayette texted back.

 

**From: Lafayette     8:52am**

**yep. Y?**

 

**To: Lafayette     8:53am**

**I’m bringing someone back to the dorm who u don’t know so I thought I’d give u a heads up**

 

**To: Alexander Hamilton     8:53am**

**Yep I’m whisking you away for a Laurens immune system cleanser. get ready to feel like SHIT for a couple hours, and then better tomorrow. ur welcome**

 

John checked out, feeling pretty satisfied with himself as he sent Alexander his dorm number.

 

When he arrived back at the dorm, Lafayette was nowhere to be seen.

 

Disappointment seeped into his good mood, as he’d been hoping to introduce Lafayette to Alexander, as well as a little bit of panic over being alone with Alexander -  _ Alexander, who has a girl _ \- John reminded himself of that.

 

He shook his head; he didn’t need Lafayette, because there was nothing strange about two friends hanging out like this.

 

Right when the chicken noodle soup was heating in the microwave, there was a knock at the door.

 

John rushed to it, gave himself a quick check in the reflection on his phone for reasons he couldn’t explain, and then pulled the door open.

 

Alexander looked like he’d tried to pull himself together - although he still wore a tank top and sweats, his hair was tied back, and his face was fresh shaved around his beard.

 

John gave him a dumb smile as he welcomed him inside. 

 

Alexander returned with a sharp grin. Even in this condition, the motion was slightly breathtaking to John.

 

He gestured to the desk chairs and the bed. “You can sit or lay wherever, I’m gonna get your soup.”

 

Now, were he at home, John could have made chicken soup from scratch. But, seeing as he had no stove, that wasn’t really an option.

 

It was campbells with a little down home touch, and Saltine crackers for Alexander.

 

John brought the food out, to find Alexander sitting on his bed, his hands in his lap and shoulders raised.

 

Alexander sniffled. “John, I’m really not even that sick anymore-”

 

John clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Don’t you know it’s an insult to turn down soup from a southerner?” 

 

Alexander looked like he might argue against that (totally made up) point, but John shoved the soup into his hands, and he didn’t protest.

 

He also pulled up a little “lapdesk”, as they were called - in practicality, a tiny table meant to go over your legs - from under his bed, and put it over Alexander’s lap.

 

The brunet smiled up at him appreciatively, as he blew on spoonfuls of the soup.

 

John also brought him a large bottle of water, and then a glass with iced  _ 7up _ and activated charcoal, which the other student looked a little frightened of when it came out.

 

After John explained what it was, Alexander still eyed it suspiciously, but he tasted it nonetheless.

 

Then he looked sideways at John, as if a thought occurred to him.

 

“You know,” He set his spoon down. “If you were going to poison me - or roofie me, or anything else like that - I sort of just walked right into it, huh?”

 

John was a little shocked to hear him talk like that. “Wh-I guess? No. No! That’s- why-why would you even- your brain even go there?”

 

Alexander’s eyebrows were high, and he was watching John amusedly.

 

“Well, I guess I can’t expect you to roofie me now.” He turned back to his soup, and poked uncertainly at the charcoal. “Unless,” He looked back up at John. “That disbelief is part of the ruse,” He said pointedly, and dipped a cracker in the soup.

 

John stared at him. Where had this man come from? Everything about him interested John. What was the  _ story _ behind Alexander Hamilton?

 

John just shook his head, as Alexander tasted the charcoal skeptically.

 

He nodded. “Not bad for something that’s supposed to make you throw up.”

 

“Well,” John amended. “It isn’t  _ supposed  _ to make you throw up, it just… Probably will, since you’re already sick.” He shrugged. 

 

“Okay!” John clapped his hands together, and retrieved his laptop from his backpack. “Sorry I don’t have a bigger screen, but part of the traditional Laurens cure-all is, naturally, Star Trek. Now I’m required by law to ask you,” John bluffed. “Have you watched any Star Trek?”

 

Alexander looked like he wasn’t sure how to respond, and John dipped his head.

 

“I will absolutely not take it as a personal attack on my home and heritage if you have not.” He assured him.

 

Alexander still looked uncertain. “See, I’m more worried what you’ll think if I say I have… I have not watched the original series. If you wanted to start there, I haven’t watched any of it. Next Gen, I watched bits and pieces, and some I remember from watching it when I was a kid, but DS9 I’ve seen almost all of, and I watched Voyager while it was coming out.”

 

John could see Alexander anticipating a negative reaction, and he nodded. “Alright, so we’ll start with TNG.”

  
  


John would be lying if he said he paid close attention to the show; him and Alexander spent more time talking about what was happening in the show than actually watching it, and the two laughed and chatted together what felt like all day. 

 

Alexander’s chicken soup bowl was abandoned cold on the nightstand, he had managed to choke down almost all of the charcoal, and was sipping on his water when a thought ocurred to John.

 

“Do you want a wine cooler?”

 

Alexander looked surprised. “A wine cooler?” He repeated.

 

“A wine cooler.” John echoed.

 

Alexander seemed to think about it, and then nodded. “Sure, why not?”

 

So John grabbed them each a wine cooler out of the fridge, and they really got to talking.

 

Also upon searching the cabinets for glasses, John discovered the last quarter bottle of vodka Lafayette had hidden in a rush, no doubt, so Thomas Jefferson wouldn’t see it last Friday.

 

He shot a quick text to Lafayette.

 

**To: Lafayette     4:43pm**

**Is it cool if I crack open that vodka from last Friday?**

 

He sat back down next to Alexander, and could feel the heat from the feverish student.

 

“I’d take it easy, though.” He warned him, reaching out with the back of his hand to feel the heat rolling off of him in waves. “You don’t want to exacerbate the fever.

 

Alexander nodded slowly, watching John’s hand as it drew away from Alexander’s face.

 

John’s phone buzzed, and Alexander quickly dropped his gaze, turning it hastily back to the computer screen.

 

**From: Lafayette     4:45pm**

**go crazy kids XD**

 

John rolled his eyes, but shot a quick thank you text to his roommate, before standing.

 

“Vodka?” He offered.

 

“What?” Now Alexander looked really surprised, as John scampered off and returned with the bottle. “John Laurens… Are you  _ trying _ to kill me? You didn’t even have to poison my soup.” He shook his head, but he was smiling.

 

John, with no sense of shame, took his half empty wine cooler and poured what he estimated as three to four shots into is bottle.

 

Alexander watched him with a trace of horror on his face. He shook his head and stood, swiping his charcoal/ _ 7up _ glass off the nightstand. “Is there more of that  _ 7up _ ?” He asked.

 

John nodded and showed him where, since Alexander had made it clear he was done being served that night.

 

The sick dude poured a generous amount of vodka into a glass of  _ 7up _ , and brought it back to the bed with him, as John sipped his now disgusting drink.

 

He wasn’t worried about it though, and decided to just down it as quickly as possible, without making it look like that was what he was doing.

 

Everytime Alexander was intently watching the show, John chugged.

 

It didn’t feel good, but he was eating a lot of Saltines, and he was pretty sure that was helping.

 

Finally, his drink was empty.

 

He stood and went into the kitchenette to mix a drink like Alexander’s, and also brought another wine cooler to chase it.

 

He brought Alexander another one too, even though his wasn’t quite all gone.

 

Alexander thanked him, and quickly finished off his cooler.

 

John kept catching himself staring at Alexander.

 

One word cycled through his head;  _ Girl _ .

 

Finally, he couldn’t help but ask; “So how are things with that girl?” John asked, trying to sound casual.

 

Alexander turned to face John, and his face shone. “She’s great- we get along really well, she’s super sweet, and really funny, but…”

 

John felt a flutter in his stomach. “‘But’?” He pried.

 

Alexander chewed his lip. “I don’t… God, it’s dumb. I don’t want to hurt her. Y’know how girls are - she thinks we’re soulmates, destined to spend the rest of our lives together, and I don’t mean to sound like a douche, but… I don’t want to be with one person for the rest of my life.” He picked at the label on his cooler. “Is that horrible?” He muttered passively.

 

John shrugged. “I think it’s human.” He admitted. “I mean… Obviously it’s horrible to, like, cheat on people. But I don’t think anyone is meant to only ever have the experience of being with one person. I mean, unless you believe in soulmates and shit, but that’s a whole other…” He realized he was rambling, and stopped talking.

 

It occurred to John that drinking with Alexander may not have been exactly the bonding experience the two needed.

 

Still, he was having fun thus far.

 

When his glass was empty, he went and retrieved the bottle from the kitchen; it was practically empty anyway.

 

He poured about two shots into his glass and offered the rest - about three shots - to Alexander, who accepted quickly.

 

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask,” John nursed his drink thoughtfully. “How old are you?”

 

“Twenty-one - around the end of last term.” He smirked.

 

John nodded, and drank from his glass so he couldn’t be expected to speak.

 

Alexander turned back to the computer screen, and John watched him. 

 

_ Dammit _ . “What’s her name?” Because John wanted to torture himself.

 

Alexander looked momentarily confused, before nodding his understanding. “Eliza. Well, Elizabeth, but everyone calls her Eliza.” He smiled thoughtfully, as he reminisced.

 

“Eliza…” John thought for a second. “Schuyler?” He asked.

 

Alexander looked caught off guard. “Y-yeah, how did you-?”

 

“Her sister works in the library,” John explained. “We sort of… Had a date?” He admitted, though it felt weird to call it a date after it had happened the way it had.

 

Alexander cracked a smile. “Which sister? I can’t imagine you with either of them, to be honest.” 

 

_ Can you imagine me with you? _ He thought.

 

But he quickly put it out of his mind. “Peggy, the youngest.”

 

Alexander looked impressed. “Yeah, she’s a smart one, Peggy. Tricky.” He smiled. “Although based on your tone, I’d wager it didn’t go well?”

 

John wasn’t quite sure how to describe the surreal experience he’d had. “Well… I think her and I are going to be good friends, but that’s all.”

 

Alexander nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I told Angelica about Eliza and myself.” He said slyly, but his smile faltered. “I really… I do care about her… I wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt her but… No, that’s it.” He seemed to steel his resolve. “No but’s. We’re adults, right? We should have ourselves figured out enough that we don’t have these problems.”

 

John laughed out loud, and quickly drew his fist to his mouth, silencing the laugher. “Yeah, let me know when you get there. I can’t even figure out something as simple as sexuality, I don’t know where all that other shit plays in.” He muttered.

 

He realized what he’d said a second after he said it, and when he looked at Alexander to gauge how much attention he was paying, he was watching him closely, suddenly seeming very interested in what John had to say.

 

“Would you… Like to elaborate on that?” He asked.

 

John felt his face flush. “Oh no-  _ God  _ no- ugh,  _ why _ do I keep  _ doing _ this to myself?” He rubbed his eyes, and hoped that Alexander would lose interest and turn back to the screen. 

 

When John dared look, Alexander was still watching him inquisitively, his dark, intense eyes fixed on John’s.

 

“I feel like… It can’t be  _ that _ hard to figure out. You like kissing girls or you don’t. You like kissing boys, or you don’t.” Alexander shrugged, like this answered all of life’s questions. “Of course, you’d have to find a willing candidate to conduct such research with…”  _ Now  _ he turned his gaze back to the computer.

 

John frowned. “I’m sorry, would  _ you _ care to elaborate?” He asked, and the brunet turned to face him.

 

Alexander shrugged. “The way I see it, if you have a theory, test it. If you want to know if you like kissing boys…” When John continued to stare, bewildered, Alexander sighed heavily. “Oh for-” 

 

He grabbed John’s collar and kissed him. It was a little rough, and John felt like electricity was coursing through his veins.

 

You’ve had butterflies in your stomach? John, right then, had a pack of wild dogs in his stomach, and they were trying to claw their way out.

 

Without thinking about it, John put his hand on the back of Alexander’s neck.

 

The other student didn’t pull away, but rather pressed closer to him.

 

John put his other hand on Alexander’s hip, and only then did the other boy pull back, his face flushed, not meeting John’s eyes. 

 

“So?”  He cleared his throat, looking at the ceiling, the floor, the computer screen, anywhere but at John.

 

“So…” Did that mean he was gay? He knew some people liked boys  _ and _ girls, but… He had  _ never _ felt like that with a girl. He certainly hadn’t felt like that when Peggy kissed him.

 

Or did it mean his feelings for Alexander were deeper than friendship feelings? But if he really  _ was _ gay, than it wasn’t because it was Alexander, but because he was the first boy. Right?

 

The whole thing was confusing and distressing to John.

 

“Come on, Laurens, you’re gonna leave me hanging? Did it help?” 

 

John blinked, trying to stop the room from spinning. “I think… I think I got more questions than answers…” John admitted.

 

Alexander glanced his way, and then continued to pick the label off his wine cooler bottle. He nodded to himself.

 

“Wh-what about you?” John tried to keep his voice steady, chasing out all of his unpleasant thoughts.

 

Alexander frowned. “What’d’you mean, me?” His speech sounded slightly slurred for the first time that night, and it came like a slap to John; of course, Alexander would only have done that if he was drunk. 

 

Kissing one boy doesn’t explain someone’s sexuality. Alexander was smart enough to know that.

 

“Am I… Do I like guys?” The question hung in the air for a moment, before Alexander shrugged. “Sexuality is an arc. Obviously, I like girls, I like Eliza - like a  _ lot _ . But, then again,” He threw his hands in the air, as if surrendering. “I also  _ really _ like-” He met John’s eyes, and suddenly looked more guarded. “I have really liked boys.” He muttered.

 

John frowned. “What were you gonna say?”

 

Alexander just shook his head, as if he were confused. “I said what I was gonna say.” He slurred.

 

John narrowed his eyes. “You said, ‘I also  _ really _ like-’ and then you cut off.” John folded his arms across his chest. “Who? Who do you also  _ really _ like?”

 

When their eyes met, Alexander’s had a dangerous look. “I misspoke.” He said, concisely.

 

John decided it wise not to press the subject further.

 

The two sat in silence for a few more minutes, before John asked, “Want another wine cooler?”

 

Alexander studied the empty bottle in his hand, and then glanced at the clock.

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” His tone was suddenly gentle, “I think I’ll be heading home soon.”

 

John glanced at the clock also, and saw it was nearly eight.

 

“That’s probably a good idea.” John admitted. 

 

His stomach weighed down with guilt when he thought about Eliza. But that wasn’t cheating, right? Not really, Alexander had likely had little to no emotion in it, and they hadn’t had sex… It was purely scientific, right?

 

After a few more minutes, Alexander began to stand. “Thank you for everything today, John. It’s been… Real.” He gave a smile, as he headed for the door.

 

“I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” John offered, but Alexander shook his head.

 

“That’s alright, I can take care of myself.”

 

“I don’t doubt that,” John smirked. “But you’re sure?”

 

Alexander nodded, an apologetic smile on his face. “I’ll see you around, John.” And with that, he was gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♪ Said nah, nah, honey I'm good, I could have another but I probably should not ♪
> 
> Where Alex is at
> 
> Where I'm at too tbh
> 
> Thanks y'all for making it this far! Especially putting up with my beta-less pacing nonsense! This is where it starts to really pick up traction so hold on to your hats! As always shout at me in the comments I love to hear from y'all!


	9. Live a Little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's head is still reeling from the night before, but his attempts to clear his head lead him in the wrong direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked, I delivered.
> 
> You're welcome, and also sorry for the continuous lack of plot aha I'm riding the struggle bus.
> 
> Enjoy!

The next day, John was not hungover like he had been the time before, but he was a different sort of sick.

 

He couldn’t believe Alexander had kissed him.

 

Alexander, who  _ had a girl _ , had kissed him. For science!

 

As soon as he awoke, these thoughts were with him, and he groaned, rolled over and went back to sleep.

 

He woke again later, though how much later he couldn’t say. 

 

He sat up, checking the clock on his phone to find it was only nine - he’d expected a much later morning after all the guilty tossing and turning he had done.

 

He had a missed text from Martha too.

  
  


**From: Marty McFly     8:49am**

**Hey, I’m getting into town early. Wanna grab some coffee?**

  
  


John quickly fired back.

  
  


**To: Marty McFly     9:04am**

**Yes! Definitely**

  
  


The two made plans to meet at a hoity-toity coffee place in the city, at ten-thirty, which gave John time to shower and get ready.

 

When he walked in, Martha was already at the bar, her back to the door.

 

She really had changed so much.

 

John made his way over and sat beside her. 

 

She was staring cluelessly at the menu.

 

When John looked up at it, he couldn’t make sense of it either.

 

“You folks ready to order?” A cheery employee asked.

 

John glanced at Martha, who still looked like she was trying to translate the menu to English in her head. 

 

“I think we need a minute.” He told the barista, who in turn just smiled politely, and shuffled off to help someone else.

 

Martha chewed her lip a moment longer, and then turned to John. “I saw a starbucks down the street.”

 

He couldn’t help but smile at that. “That would definitely be easier.”

  
  


So the two made the short walk down the street to the Starbucks, where Martha ordered something with ten different kinds of coffee, and John ordered an Americano with a shot of espresso.

 

The two took their seats at a wire table outside, the warm coffee keeping them comfortable in the winter air.

 

John was people watching quietly, and turned to Martha to find her studying him.

 

He gave her an inquisitive look, and she narrowed her eyes.

 

“What’s bothering you?” She asked.

 

John frowned. “Nothing.” He lied, trying to push Alexander from his mind.

 

Martha pressed her lips together. “You sure you don’t want to tell me?”

 

John chewed his lip. Damn if she didn’t have that reassuring, big sister-ly charm.

 

He sighed. “Okay, so Alex. Alex Hamilton…” He shook his head, and started by telling her about the first times he’d met Alex, careful to avoid pronouns, but being sure to include that Alex was with someone, up to how he’d been sick and John had invited him over. 

 

“So we were in my dorm, and we were drinking - maybe a little more than we should have - and we got to talking…” John realized the context of what had happened made Alex being a boy a pivotal detail. “And - I don’t know, we were getting close, and… Well, Alex kissed me.”

 

Martha nodded, her brow furrowed. “Did it mean anything?” She never missed a beat.

 

John played with the label on his coffee cup, avoiding Martha’s eyes. “To who?”

 

His older sister sighed, as if his question answered hers. “Johnny…” She shook her head.

 

John shook his head, dropping it into his hands. “I know.” He groaned. 

 

When he looked up and met her eyes though, Martha was smiling gently. “And that’s all that matters.”

 

John was confused now. “What?”

 

She gave him a knowing look. “You  _ know _ . You feel guilty?”

 

John nodded.

 

She splayed out her hands. “So? Then it won’t happen again, will it?” She suggested.

 

John hesitated. “N-no, of course not.”

 

Martha raised an eyebrow at him, and John looked away.

 

John wanted to say that no, it wouldn’t happen again. Of course, it was a despicable thing to even consider it  _ would _ happen again.

 

When he met Martha’s eyes, she was considering him with an unreadable expression. “Will it?” She asked again, more gently.

 

John chewed his lip, and then shook his head, his resolve set; he  _ couldn’t _ do that to Eliza. “No. Not as long as they’re together.” He decided.

 

Martha looked marginally relieved, and gave a nod of approval. “That’s probably best for everyone involved.” She agreed.

 

John was certain she was right. In his head, he  _ knew _ no good came of dwelling on what had happened between him and Alexander, at least not while he was with Eliza.

 

Even if he knew that, it didn’t stop his thoughts from wandering, or from thinking about all the things he’d felt when Alexander had kissed him, or about the way the other student wouldn’t meet his eyes afterward, and quickly left.

 

John, despite himself considered these things as he sipped his Americano.

 

They sat in silence for a while, John lost in his own thoughts, before he became conscious of the passing of time.

 

He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket, and checked the time.

 

“Shhh- I have to go,” He began to stand, “I have class in a half an hour, and I need to get a presentation together. Thanks for coffee, Marty.” He paused. “I’m really glad you’re in town.” He admitted.

 

Martha smiled warmly up at him. “Me too.” She agreed. “Now get out of here, you’re gonna be late.” She scolded. 

 

John nodded to her, as he made his way out of the restaurant, and jogged back towards campus.

 

John entered the classroom to find Alexander already seated, his hair brushed into a neat bun and his glasses glinting as he looked up when John walked in.

 

He nodded, gave a small smile and turned back to the papers on the desk before him.

 

As John eased into his seat, he wondered if Alexander was going to say anything about the night before. His stomach still felt heavy with guilt, and he wondered if Alexander had talked to Eliza.

 

When Alexander didn’t seem particularly interested in saying anything to John, the younger boy relaxed slightly.

 

John had trouble focussing throughout the lesson though, and fidgeted anxiously.

 

After the professor excused them, Alexander turned to him with a suspicious look, and John smiled sheepishly.

 

“What’s wrong?” Alexander asked, his dark eyes boring into John.

 

“Wh-what’s wrong?” John repeated dumbly. “I don’t- nothing. Nothing is wrong.” He lied.

 

Alexander raised an eyebrow. “Okay,  _ that’s _ convincing.” He said sarcastically, as he began to pack up. “Well, if something  _ is _ wrong, and it has anything to do with something I’ve said or done, I’m sure you’ll let me know.” He reasoned. “And as we are both adults, I’m sure I’ll find a way to correct whatever happened without any need for issues.”

 

When Alexander was finished packing, he started to head towards the door, before stopping on the side of the desk opposite John and locking eyes with him.

 

“You  _ would _ tell me, if something was wrong, right?” He asked it like he was prompting John, an almost pleading look in his eyes.

 

John blinked slowly. “I-”

 

Just then, Alexander’s phone rang, drawing his gaze away from John as he pulled it out of his pocket. 

 

When he looked up at John again, his face was apologetic. “It’s Eliza. I’ve got to take this… Text me, though.” He gave John a last even look, before answering the phone.

 

John watched as the other student walked out of the classroom and into the hallway, phone pressed to his ear.

 

John dropped his head to the desk, sighing heavily.

 

After a moment of self-pity, he lifted his head and packed his notebook back into his bag, standing.

  
  


When he opened the door to his dorm room, Lafayette was on the phone, pacing fervently.

 

When John walked in, his eyes got wide. “ _ Je dois partir maintenant _ ,  _ père _ .” He said into the phone.

 

After waiting a moment for an answer, an opportunity John took to settle into his desk, Lafayette continued. “ _ Mon colocataire est de retour, je ne veux pas qu'il entende ça _ .  _ Non! _ ” 

 

Lafayette didn’t sound angry, but vehemently shook his head as he resumed speaking over the person on the other end of the conversation.

 

“ _ Je raccroche. Il n'y a plus rien à dire. _ ” He said flatly, before hanging up the phone.

 

John watched his roommate for a moment, as the Frenchman refused to meet his eyes.

 

After a couple of seconds silence, John turned his chair to face Lafayette, who had sat down on his bed and was hanging his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Everything alright?” John asked tentatively.

 

Lafayette sighed. “Everything is…” He shook his head, giving a small bitter laugh. “The same as it always is,  _ mon amie. _ ”

 

John raised his eyebrows. “You wanna talk about it?” He offered.

 

It was only fair, since Lafayette had listened to his family drama and offered helpful insight on multiple occasions.

 

Lafayette seemed to study him a moment. “You know John, you never told me what rancor  _ you _ left back home.” He mentioned slowly.

 

John glanced down. “It’s the same reason my dad isn’t coming to Martha’s wedding.” He hoped that was sufficiently explanatory, and that Lafayette wouldn’t press him further.

 

When he looked up, Lafayette was still watching him, and nodded slightly. “I figured as much,” He said quietly. “Back in France,” He offered unexpectedly. “I’ve had similar issues. My parents… They worry much. When I told them I wanted to come to America, and to New York no less, they were worried. Worried that I might… Make bad decisions.”

 

John wasn’t sure he understood exactly.

 

Lafayette must have seen it in his face, and continued. “In France, Lafayette is a big name. It’s an  _ old _ name. And it means a lot to my parents that… It’s carried on.”

 

Now John understood. “Do you have any siblings?”

 

Lafayette nodded. “A younger brother, Michel.” He shook his head. “But I am the oldest. I am the heir to the line, and…” He picked at the sheet on the bed, looking down at his lap. “And I’m meant to have a son, who will carry on the name after me.”

 

John nodded, a wave of indignance crashing over him on Lafayette’s behalf. 

 

“Do you…  _ want _ kids?”

 

Lafayette threw his hands in the air. “I’m twenty-two! I don’t-” He gave a slight huff. “I don’t even know if I  _ want _ marriage, or-or to stay in America, or to go back to France to my family - John, I don’t know where my life is headed.” He sounded more resigned in that sentence than John had ever heard him.

 

He wished he had comforting words to say, or some thought inspiring question to make Lafayette feel better.

 

The Frenchman was watching his own hands in his lap, as a smile crossed his face.

 

“But I  _ do  _ know,” He said with a little more resolve. “That I want Hercules to be a part of it. Wherever I go, whatever I do…”

 

John smiled warmly. “I didn’t even get the chance to cheer you up, you had to go do it yourself.” He teased.

 

When Lafayette looked up again, he was smiling but his eyes looked sad. “It’s what I do best.” He claimed, and then reached into his bag and pulled out his laptop. “Now, for what I  _ don’t _ do best; homework.” He moved to his desk, and John turned back to his own.

 

He knew he ought to do his homework too, but hearing Lafayette talk about Hercules had brought his thoughts against his will back to Alexander.

 

He remembered how he’d said to text him, and the piercing way he’d looked at John, his eyes full of expectation.

 

John pulled out his phone, and drafted a text.

 

**To: Alexander Hamilton     6:27pm**

**Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to talk about last night.**

 

He stared at it.

 

All he had to do was press send.

 

Alexander had said that they were adults, and as adults they should be able to talk out any issues.

 

The last thing John felt like at that moment was an adult.

 

He erased the text and tucked his phone back into his pocket, opening his laptop to the assignment that was due by midnight that night.

  
  


John wasn’t sure when he dozed off, but he woke with his back stiff, his neck sore and his face stuck to his keyboard.

 

A glance at the clock told him it was barely past midnight, and he stretched as he rubbed the redness out of his cheek.

 

He considered going to bed - a glance behind him told him Lafayette was dozing peacefully in his own bed - but wasn’t sure he’d be able to get back to sleep.

 

He still felt a nagging sense of guilt over Alexander, and it was making his stomach churn.

 

He couldn’t put it from his mind.

 

On an overwhelming impulse, he slipped quietly into his shoes and coat, grabbed his phone and slipped out of the dorm.

  
  


At different points, John became aware of four things.

 

The first of these, the floorboards.

 

As John stepped tentatively out of his dorm and immediately noticed the loud  _ creak _ that met his foot pressing into the floor.

 

He was sure he sounded like an elephant tromping through the hallways.

 

Second, the lights.

 

Only a moment later, right as he wondered how visible he was in his gray hoodie in the dark hallway, he discovered that every light besides the emergency ones was motion activated.

 

He was certain that if the sound of his feet on the squeaky floor wasn’t enough to alert the dozing building of his presence, the light would be.

 

The third was the curfew.

 

Though he wasn’t aware of any particular consequence of the policy, he knew that during registration they had to sign a waiver, acknowledging that the school mandated curfew was midnight, and it was strictly against school policy to be out of your dorm past that curfew.

 

The fourth, John tried to put from his mind; a sort of quiet shuffling.

 

He only heard it every now and then, when he would stop suddenly to listen, and wasn’t sure if he was hearing it at all.

 

But at one point he was certain he heard a floorboard creak behind him.

 

His heart thudded in his chest as he approached the lobby doors. Were the doors alarmed?

 

Before he had a chance to consider whether he should go back upstairs and find a fire escape, a sound made him jump nearly out of his skin.

 

“What’re you doing?” A voice hissed.

 

John whirled around to see a familiar face coming out of the shadows, light glinting off of his round glasses.

 

“Wh- what are  _ you _ doing?” John whispered back defensively.

 

Alexander had a smug look on his face, and his eyes danced playfully. “I was just minding my business, on my way to a nice nighttime walk, when I saw  _ some idiot _ ,” He gestured at John. “Looking like he was getting ready to do something stupid, like go out the front doors.” He raised an eyebrow pointedly.

 

John had no idea how to respond. He had been planning on going outside to clear his head of thoughts of Alexander, and had managed to run into him.

 

Alexander took his silence as a cue to continue. “Well, naturally, I had to follow him. And just now, it looked like he  _ was _ about to go  _ right  _ out the front doors, triggering the alarm and causing all sorts of havoc.”

 

John sputtered defensively, trying to say he  _ hadn’t _ been planning on going out the front doors - which, truthfully, he  _ had _ been leaning away from - but words failed him, and Alexander just laughed, stealing the breath out of John’s lungs anyway.

 

“You dying for some fresh air?” He asked, moving closer to John to speak in a low whisper.

 

John smiled at the floor, letting the bitter irony of this situation sink in.

 

Then he nodded. “Yeah I-I wanted to, um, clear my head.” 

 

Alexander nodded knowingly. “Never been off-campus after curfew, huh?”

 

“Well I- you know- it’s just…” He met Alexander’s dark, knowing eyes. “No.”

 

An amused smile slipped onto Alexander’s lips, and John braced himself for teasing.

 

To his surprise, he just gestured John to follow him and headed towards the emergency stairs. 

 

John followed silently, as the two made it to the first landing.

 

Here, John was surprised to see an exit door propped open, and the fire escape glinting outside.

 

The two stepped out onto the dark, metal grate, John immediately felt the wind and the chilly air, and saw the lights of the city beyond the campus gate.

 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Without his noticing, Alexander had come up beside John and was looking out into the city.

 

When John turned to him, he smiled. “C’mon.” He began to climb down the fire escape.

 

After a moment’s hesitation, curiosity got the best of John and he followed Alexander.

 

Once at the bottom of the ladder, Alexander jumped to the ground with practised ease, and John followed shortly after but landed much less gracefully, toppling onto his behind when the impact was greater than he anticipated.

 

Alexander chuckled at him as he extended a hand to help him to his feet.

 

The two ran through the campus - past the coffee shops and grated store fronts - towards the city lights in the distance, with lots of shushing and laughing.

 

Finally, they made it out to the road up to the college, and took off for the city under the darkening sky.

 

For someone with a lithe frame like his, Alexander could certainly run.

 

John quickly found himself panting as he tried to keep up.

 

When he slowed down as they neared a large, grassy park, Alexander turned back to him and faltered.

 

He jogged back to John and punched him playfully in the arm. “We’re going on an adventure tonight, Laurens. Are you up for one?”

 

John put a hand up, still trying to catch his breath.

 

This earned a laugh from Alexander. “Don’t run much? It’s great for clearing your head!”

 

With that, he grabbed John’s wrist and they were off again.

 

After a few moments, he called over his shoulder, “Not much further, I’ve got a better place we can stop.”

 

They continued to weave between buildings for what felt like forever, and John realized Alexander had been right about one thing; it did help clear his head.

 

As they made their way carefully past hotels and apartment complexes, car dealerships and ghostly storefronts, John didn’t really think.

 

He felt the wind, the chill of the air, and the familiarity and security of the campus from the past few weeks slipping further and further behind them.

 

As they made their way deeper into the city, he heard the buzz of moderate traffic and the hum of the underground subway snaking through it’s tunnels.

 

He smelled various bars and pubs as they passed, they stumbled past many a reeking patron of these establishments.

 

As they neared the far end of the province, John became aware of the light rumble from the sky every so often, and the faint scent of salt water tinged the air.

 

Suddenly he was feeling a little too much, as he became aware of the warmth of Alexander’s hand in his, and the cement gave way to soft sand, and the heavy, busy New York air gave way to open beach and water and  _ Alexander _ .

 

Suddenly the older boy was stopping and staring out at the sky.

 

John stopped also, and had to lean on his knees to catch his breath.

 

When Alexander’s hand disappeared from John’s, the younger student looked down the beach to see him making his way gleefully towards the shore, his hair blowing in the wind behind him.

 

John shook his head, and ran after him. “What are you  _ doing _ ?” He asked incredulously, as he came near Alexander.

 

When he turned to John though, his eyes were alight in a way John had never seen before.

 

He stopped just short of the shore, and sat down in the sand, beginning to strip off his shoes and socks.

 

“No really,” John stopped too, crossing his arms. “ _ What _ are you  _ doing _ ?”

 

Alexander paused and looked back up to meet John’s eyes. “Try  _ living _ .” He smirked, and continued to roll up his pant legs.

 

John watched in disbelief as the other boy rolled his pants up past his knees, and stood again.

 

He glanced over John as he tied back his hair, giving him a slight surprised look. “You’re not gonna join me?” He asked, as he backed into the waves.

 

John shook his head. “Are you crazy? Alexander, it can’t be warmer than sixty degrees out here, cooler with the wind.”

 

Alexander shrugged, chewing his lip. “Live a little.” With that, he turned and ran along the beach, his feet splashing as they skimmed the shallows.

 

John hesitated, watching his friend run along the beach, looking more carefree than John had seen him.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he watched him - it could have been minutes, seconds, it felt like hours - before the reality of what was happening began to sink in, and John wanted to think of anything else.

 

So, he sat down in the sand and began to take off his shoes.

 

As he was taking off his second sock, he looked up to see Alexander a ways down the beach, gazing up at the sky.

 

John stood, and looked warily at the water lapping the sand near his toes.

 

What was he doing?  _ Live a little. _

 

John dipped his toes into the icy waves. It was invigorating, and as he walked up to his ankles in the harbor, John felt a strange rush of energy.

 

He ran down the shore towards where Alexander stood, still gazing at the sky.

 

When John reached him, he started to get the feeling something was off.

 

Alexander was staring at the sky, but his face was strange; his brow was furrowed, his mouth taut.

 

John slowed down as he approached, and followed his friend’s gaze to the sky.

 

Almost all of the stars were blocked out by clouds now, and lightning traced images into the sky.

 

“It’s beautiful here usually,” Alexander muttered, his voice strange. “The only place the city lights don’t block the stars.”

 

John looked out towards the horizon, and saw somewhere in the distance it was raining. The wind and storm whipped the water into a frenzy, making the open ocean look rather chaotic and frightening.

 

John slipped his hand into Alexander’s subconsciously, though the other boy didn’t seem to mind.

 

He squeezed John groundingly, not taking his eyes off the sky as he murmured, “We should probably head back.”

 

John frowned, turning his gaze to Alexander. “Dude, we  _ just _ got here. We’ll have to walk so far.”

 

He’d meant it to lighten the mood, but Alexander’s frown deepened.

 

When he turned his gaze on John, there was nothing humorous about it. He had a look of urgency in his eyes that froze John. “We need to get back before that storm hits.” He said evenly.

 

John hesitated, confused by the situation. He hadn’t really thought much up to this point, but running all the way down here had left him wheezing, and he was still barely recovering. 

 

He wasn’t sure he’d make it back at the same pace.

 

“Why? Don’t wanna get caught in the rain?” He made a second attempt to lighten the mood, and  Alexander’s grip on his hand tightened as thunder rolled in the distance.

 

When he met John’s eyes again, they held that same sense of urgency that was now morphing into alarm. 

 

“Please.” It was barely audible, but Alexander’s expression told John all he needed to know.

 

The younger student relented, and pulled Alexander along behind him back towards where the two had abandoned their shoes and socks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo yeah
> 
> For the sake of perspective, no French translation here.
> 
> Leave me a comment letting me know what you think!!


	10. Say Yes To The Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Alexander interact in a way that further confuses John, as he fights to push away feelings.
> 
> John and Martha go to Hercules' workshop to work out the dress situation

John dropped Alexander’s hand as he donned his footwear, and didn’t miss the way his friend gazed uncertainly at the sky whenever he wasn’t looking at his own shoes.

 

Once properly redressed, the two headed back in the direction they had come, this time at a walk.

 

John was getting the strong sense something was wrong. Alexander walked stiffly, his eyes constantly darting back towards the sky as he breathed heavily.

 

John wanted to ask him about it, but had come to the conclusion that thinking was not what they had come to do that night; he couldn’t try to force Alexander into it now.

 

So the two walked in silence.

 

On one particularly loud rumble of thunder, Alexander seized John’s hand again in his, though he kept his gaze resolutely before him, sparing the sky a momentary glance but not John.

 

John wasn’t sure how long the two walked in silence. How far had they come from the dorms anyway?

 

He really hoped Alexander knew where he was going, and that the two would be back soon.

 

It occurred to John that he had to be up somewhat early the next day, as he was meeting Hercules and Martha at Hercules’ workspace with Martha’s dress to discuss alterations.

 

He was sure the whole thing would be painfully boring, but Martha insisted he be there to act as a buffer between her and Hercules, despite John’s assurances that Hercules was perfectly professional and she needn’t worry about it.

 

John was startled by a bright bolt of lightning that lit the clouds in front of them.

 

Out of curiosity, he began counting. He’d barely even thought the number _one_ before he heard the deep _crack!_ Of thunder.

 

John got chills at the loud noise, and couldn’t help but slightly quicken his pace.

 

When he glanced over at Alexander, something was definitely off.

 

His face was pale, he was sweating despite the chilly night, and his breathing was ragged.

 

His hand was hot and tight on John’s, as the two weaved through the city and back towards the campus.

 

John hadn’t thought much as they’d been coming through the city the first time, and didn’t take the time to note any landmarks or such they passed.

 

In short, he had no idea where they were.

 

His eyes kept finding their way back to Alexander, as a weird feeling was filling his chest at the sight of the other boy.

 

He desperately hoped his friend knew where they were, and where they were going.

 

A couple of times throughout what felt like miles of walking, Alexander would let out a short breath that sounded almost exasperated, but there was something else there too.

 

As the impending storm drew nearer, their pace quickened. Finally, John couldn’t keep it up anymore; he slowed to a stop, pulling Alexander to a halt beside him.

 

The other boy had a warning look in his eyes when he did finally meet John’s, and the younger student was slightly startled.

 

“Sorry, I um…” He shook his head, still trying to catch his breath. “I just need a second.”

 

Alexander’s gaze softened, and he nodded, releasing John’s hand.

 

The younger of the two immediately missed the contact.

 

John watched Alexander curiously, as he gazed at the sky with a mix of wonder and fear.

 

The look was something John couldn’t shake; the way his wide eyes stared into infinity, scanning the sky with his chest heaving.

 

John figured he couldn’t have been much more in shape than him, and he was likely feeling the effects of the night as well.

 

John pressed his lips together, realizing that if he rested too long he’d begin to feel the soreness in his feet.

 

With a sigh, he heaved himself back upright and gingerly reached for Alexander’s hand.

 

When he didn’t respond immediately, John lightly touched his shoulder.

 

The older student jumped, and when his eyes fell on John he looked momentarily dazed, like he’d just woken up.

 

He blinked a few times, and then gave a soft smile at John’s proffered hand, taking it.

 

The two continued back towards the school at a quick walking pace, a comfortable silence between them.

  


It seemed like an eternity before the campus finally came into sight, and John thought he’d collapse with relief.

 

The nearer they drew to the building, the stronger Alexander’s pull towards protection from the impending storm seemed to become, as he sped up significantly.

  


As they clambered back up the fire escape, the first drops of rain were beginning to fall, and Alexander glanced around apprehensively.

 

Once they were safely inside, John released his friend’s hand. He was sure they could be called friends at this point, at least.

 

Alexander was absentmindedly watching as John closed the window they’d come in through, and when John turned to meet his eyes there was something profound there.

 

“You okay?” John asked, trying to decipher the look in the other boy’s eyes.

 

Alexander only gave a slight nod, and John realized he hadn’t actually _said_ anything since asking John to leave the beach.

 

As Alexander turned to leave, John reached out and caught his hand again.

 

The other boy spun to face him, still wearing a strange expression.

 

“Really, Alex..?” It was the first time he’d called him by the shortened version of his name, and the question posed was not really one that could be spoken.

 

The other boy blinked, and stepped closer to John, and then shook his head, turning his gaze to the window.

 

For the first time, John noticed that his eyes were beginning to shine.

 

“Whoa, what-?” Suddenly Alexander was hugging John tightly, his head tucked under the younger boy’s chin.

 

He was breathing raggedly, and John quickly returned the embrace. Whatever was happening, he wanted to be able to comfort him.

 

They only remained that way for a moment before Alexander let out a racking sob and let go, straightening up.

 

“Sorry,” He rasped, his eyes never lingering on one spot long. “It- I don’t-” He gestured at the window, clearly holding back tears. “I’m sorry.” He repeated.

 

John shook his head. “Don’t even worry about it - hey,” He called when Alexander looked like he was going to turn around and bolt. “Hey,” He said more firmly, placing his hand on the other student’s shoulder.

 

Alexander swallowed, breathing heavily. “John I can’t-” He flinched at the sound of thunder. _That_ was why he’d been acting so strange outside. The storm.

 

John shook his head. “Then don’t.” He pulled him into another embrace, and immediately the smaller boy collapsed into him, sobbing.

 

John ran a hand through his hair, holding him tightly. He held him like that for a few minutes, before his legs were beginning to feel the effects of running all that distance.

 

“Hey, Alex?” He muttered against his hair. He was starting to think he could get used to the nickname.

 

“Hmm?” The older of the two answered.

 

John thought for a minute. He knew they couldn’t stay here anyway - they were already technically breaking curfew - but he disdained the idea of leaving Alexander alone at the moment.

 

It would feel like a betrayal, after the night’s events.

 

He couldn’t invite himself back to Alexander’s dorm, so he went with the only other thing he could think of; “Do you wanna come back to my dorm?”

 

Alexander’s shuddering paused, his breathing went shallow for a moment.

 

John waited uncertainly, hoping the invitation hadn’t come out the wrong way.

 

After a moment that seemed to stretch to eternity, Alexander shook his head, slowly drawing away from John.

 

He was breathing heavily now, but more controlled. “No, no I-I couldn’t.” He sniffled, tucking a runaway strand of hair behind his ear and collecting himself. “Thank you, John for…” He didn’t really need to finish the sentence.

 

John smiled sheepishly. “Don’t mention it.”

 

Alexander nodded, still looking odd and distant. “I’m gonna - I need to go back to my dorm now.” With what seemed like a great effort, he met John’s eyes. “Please, don’t, um… Don’t mention this, to anyone?”

 

John was surprised that the thought had even crossed his mind. “N-no! Of-of course, I would never want-”

 

Alexander cut him off with, “Thanks. I- I’ll see you tomorrow, John.” He gave him a last, feeble attempt at a smile, before disappearing back up the stairs.

 

John stared after him for a few seconds, before shaking his head and heading back towards his own dorm.

  


John’s sleep that night was filled with dreams of running on the beach, dancing through the waves while a storm bore down.

 

With images of cloudy skies and saltwater rain running down his face, and down Alexanders.

 

He woke in a cold sweat, to thunder rolling outside the window, and his thoughts went immediately to Alexander.

 

Last night he’d felt a lot of things that he knew he shouldn’t think on too much, especially considering Alexander had a girl.

 

A _girl_.

 

And if Eliza was anything like her sister, John couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her either.

 

With these thoughts rolling around in his head, it took a moment for his mind to catch up to the present.

 

To today.

 

Tuesday.

 

_Martha._

 

As the realization hit him, John bolted upright in bed, and reached for his cell phone.

 

It was almost nine.

 

 _Shit_.

 

He quickly shot a text to Hercules and one to Martha, letting them both know he was running behind schedule.

 

He was really tired, and tried in a hurry to tame his hair into a ponytail.

 

He changed into a fresh tee shirt and some jeans, and decided it was the best he was going to get, and charged out the door.

  


When he jogged up to Hercules’ workshop - the soreness in his legs from last night making itself known - it wasn’t even nine-thirty yet.

 

A smile slid onto his face as he saw Martha and Hercules in conversation.

 

When his sister saw him, though, her face lit up. “Johnny! Hey,” She beamed up at him, moving to give him a hug as he approached.

 

“Hey, Marty.” He smiled too as he hugged her back.

 

Hercules smiled at them both, and then began fiddling with a key ring. “Shall we, then?” He asked as he worked one of the keys into the lock.

 

“You guys didn’t have to wait for me.” John smiled sheepishly.

 

Hercules gave a slight shake of the head and Martha rolled her eyes. “Of course, we were just catching up. Turns out we’ve got a lot in common besides you,” She teased, as she picked up  large, dark plastic dry-cleaning bag.

 

John must have been giving it an odd look, because Martha smiled at him reassuringly, as the three entered.

 

The space was dark, but it was clearly large and Hercules seemed to know his way around perfectly without need for light, as he maneuvered across the room, calling out, “Place is a bit of a mess, um, at the moment but just… Don’t - it’s not always like this. I’ve had other things on my mind.” He sounded… Nervous? That was uncharacteristic.

 

When he reached the other end of the room, he hefted a large, loud, industrial light lever and fluorescent lights high above their heads came on all around the room.

 

Although, upon second consideration, John would hardly classify the space as a ‘room’.

 

Huge, cement walls were lined with racks and racks of garments in various states of creation and repair. Rows of white office tables sat on a reflective white, tile flooring and were stacked with scissors, pins, and more garments with pins and needles scattered about.

 

“Hercules, this…” John tried through his awe.

 

“Like I said, ignore the mess-” Martha was shaking her head adamantly.

 

“This is all yours? All your… works?” She asked, gesturing around the room.

 

Hercules shrugged. “Yeah.”

 

“That’s amazing!” John shook his head, eyebrows high. “This is crazy cool, dude.” He admitted, and Hercules grinned.

 

“Glad you like it. Now, let’s see about that dress… Here we are,” He moved over to one of the tables, where a model that looked like a person’s headless torso sat.

 

He picked it up off the table, and attached it to a metal base that stood a few feet off the ground.

 

Martha looked inexplicably nervous, as she moved to carefully unzip the bag.

 

The gown was white - naturally - with gold embroidery running along the bodice.

 

When she pulled it out of the bag and Hercules began to gingerly maneuver it onto the dummy, John saw that the train was long and mesh, of the same sparkly gold color.

 

The three took a moment to admire the dress, before Hercules addressed Martha.

 

“So, what’s the issue with it?” He was examining the seams along the bottom of the bodice. “There doesn’t look to be any tears…”

 

“No it’s in perfect condition it’s just… Um, tight.” She muttered.

 

Hercules pondered her a moment. “How tight?”

 

She chewed her lip. “Well, I can’t, um… I can’t get into it anymore.” Her cheeks tinged pink, despite the unabashed look on her face.

 

John felt badly for her, as well as feeling a rush of anger when he thought about what his father would have to say about her weight gain.

 

He’d heard his sisters berated for it in the past - ‘Guys don’t like fat girls’ - and the thought that those comments would stick with them made him sick to his stomach.

 

Hercules didn’t miss a beat, nodding. “Okay so we’ll have to let out the sides probably…” He began muttering to himself under his breath as he moved to another table with an array of fabrics.

 

John and Martha watched quietly as he compared one white fabric after another to the torso of the dress.

 

Finally, he seemed to settle on one and pulled the roll of of the rack, bringing it over to the table beside the dummy.

 

He cleared a space on the table, and began laying out fabric.

 

As he was considering them, John’s phone buzzed.

 

**From: Alexander Hamilton     9:57am**

**Hey, we should talk about last night.**

 

**From: Alexander Hamilton     9:57am**

**Are you free tonight?**

 

John’s heart stuttered as he considered the messages.

 

**To: Alexander Hamilton     9:58am**

**Yeah, what time?**

 

He ran a hand through his hair, as Hercules pulled out a tape measurer and asked Martha, “May I?”

 

She lifted her arms and nodded, and he wrapped it around her waist.

 

He then returned to the dress, holding the spot where the end had met the measuring tape as John’s phone buzzed again.

 

**From: Alexander Hamilton    9:58am**

**Sweet, meet me at 7:30 on the fire escape? I’ll bring something to lighten the mood**

 

The text was ended with a bottle emoji, as well as what John thought was two martini glasses crossed.

 

He snickered at the text, earning Martha’s attention.

 

“Who’re you texting so audibly?” She asked, a smirk on her face.

 

John felt his face heat up. “No one,” He evaded, as he quickly typed out his response.

 

**To: Alexander Hamilton     9:59am**

**Perfect. Cya there**

 

Martha was watching him with a curious glint in her eye. “Alex?” She prompted quietly, so Hercules wouldn’t hear.

 

John was grateful for at least that bit of dignity. He felt his face heat up more, and a smile slid onto his lips. “Maybe.”

 

Martha’s amused look faltered, a hint of concern in her voice as she urged him, “Be careful with that one, love.”

 

John rolled his eyes, but smiled appreciatively. “Always am, Marty.”

 

Hercules came back over to them, a bright look on his face. “Good news; it’s a super easy fix. Martha, you’ve barely shifted size, and this will be quicker than I thought.” He gave her a warm smile.

 

Martha’s face lit up. “Really?”

 

He nodded. “Give me the afternoon, I’ll have it ready before the day’s out.” He assured her.

 

Martha’s eyebrows went up. “Great! That’s fantastic,” She beamed up at John, as Hercules glanced back at the dress.

 

“So you guys can stay here if you want, um, I’m sure it’ll be pretty boring. Don’t feel obligated to stay, it really makes no difference to me, if you guys wanna go out and do whatever, you can always pop in.” He smiled at John. “Door’s always open.”

 

John nodded gratefully. “I actually have class, in…” He glanced at his phone clock. “Just over an hour and a half. Marty, you wanna go get breakfast?”

 

She shrugged. “Sure. Want anything Hercules? I can’t begin to express what this means…”

 

He waved her off. “I already ate. I’d love an iced coffee, though.” He conceded.

 

Martha nodded. “Alright. We’ll go grab something to eat, and then we can come back and… Hang out. Sound cool?” She looked to the boys for confirmation, and they both nodded.

 

So the two siblings set out.

 

Once they were in the car, Martha spoke up. “I really meant it when I said be careful, John.” She looked at him seriously. “If something happens between you two, when Alex is still in a relationship…” She shook her head. “It’s only going to end in heartache. _Especially_ if you really like him.”

 

John was surprised at her use of the pronoun, as he was certain he’d been careful to avoid it.

 

The cat was out of the bag now.

 

He was quiet though, thinking about last night, holding Alexander while he cried… John shook his head at the thought. _He has a girl._

 

He knew that nothing could happen between them, as long as Alexander was in a relationship.

 

He couldn’t do that to Peggy’s sister.

 

Martha seemed to take his silence as an indicator, and changed the subject. “So how’s school? You getting good grades?”

 

She gave him a look that said, ‘Who am I kidding?’ but he just chuckled.

 

“They could certainly be better,” He admitted. “If I did my homework and all that.”

 

Martha let out a light laugh. “Johnny,” She scolded jokingly. “C’mon! You could be kicking ass.”

 

They were pulling up to the restaurant now, and as Martha shut off the engine they were both laughing.

 

“Hey, I’m still kicking ass! I have _two_ B’s. And I personally think,” He paused to close the door and walk around to open the front door of the restaurant. “That _that_ is pretty good, for someone who doesn’t do their homework and sleeps in class.”

 

Martha laughed again, louder this time. “Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty impressive.” She conceded, as the two found a table in the little cafe.

 

John felt the smirk slip off his face when he saw who was sitting behind Martha.

 

He met Alexander’s eyes, and saw the other boy falter too.

 

He was with a girl - John assumed Eliza - and the two had been chatting and laughing until John and Martha sat down.

 

Martha followed his gaze, and Alexander quickly smiled and waved to them.

 

The girl he was with turned to face them too, and John immediately saw why Alexander would like her; she had thick, straight, dark hair pinned back away from her face, and dark, warm eyes.

 

She smiled softly at John, and her features radiated kindness and gentleness.

 

Martha turned back to him, and John blinked slowly.

 

She raised an eyebrow, as if to ask who they were, and John dropped his head slightly.

 

This seemed to be the only answer his big sister needed.

 

“That’s him?” She asked softly.

 

John nodded sheepishly. “I went on a date with her little sister.” He admitted.

 

Martha raised her eyebrows. “Really? How was that?”

 

John couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him as he began to recount the rollercoaster of a night, and tried to put Alexander out of his mind.

 

He’d felt he was doing this pretty proficiently, until they were getting ready to leave, and he excused himself to the restroom.

 

As soon as he opened the door, he wished he’d just held it until they got back to Hercules’ workshop.

 

Who should be standing in the middle of the bathroom, leaning on the sink, but Alexander _damn_ Hamilton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo
> 
> Funny how I don't have a computer right now due to extenuating circumstances, and therefore will be having a time of writing for sure.
> 
> I don't know if I'll be able to write at all, I'll try to get some done on my phone, and hopefully this situation is temporary and I'll have my computer back in a few days. 
> 
> If not, I've written out up to chapter twelve, so I'll be able to post up to there and then I may go radio silent, so sorry if you're invested in this work ^^' I'll try my best to keep y'all up to date!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Leave me a comment letting me know what you think!


	11. The Tailor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martha is getting her dress tailored, and her and John have some deep conversations alongside it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so late in the day! I've sort of... lost track of time today ^^'
> 
> Hold on to your butts though folks, because we are getting the ball ROLLIN

John considered momentarily turning around and bolting, but something was off about Alexander that made him hesitate.

 

The boy looked pale, there was a bead of sweat on his forehead, and his knuckles were white where he gripped the sides of the sink.

 

His breathing was dangerously even and heavy, like he was trying to keep it steady.

 

He didn’t look up at John when he entered, nor did he seem to take any notice of the other boy watching him.

 

“Alexander?” John asked tentatively.

 

The other boy’s breath hitched, and then he closed his eyes. John heard thunder roll outside.

 

He moved closer to his friend, so he could see his face better. He considered some sort of comforting gesture, but wasn’t really sure what would work.

 

Before he could ponder it too long, Alexander snapped up straight. His eyes cleared, and he looked at John with slight apprehension.

 

He gave a small smile, and then turned on the water to wash his hands, as if nothing had happened. “John.” He greeted calmly.

 

John blinked. “Are-are you alright? You seemed…”  _ Off? Strange? Scared? _

 

Alexander just laughed, as if John were a cute kid worrying about something they didn’t understand.

 

“I’m fine, dude, just… Zoned out, I guess.” His tone was light, but there was something strange about it.

 

It seemed a little  _ too _ light, like he was desperate for John to believe him.

 

The younger student frowned. “You’re sure?” He double checked, as Alexander went to dry his hands.

 

He spared John a glance as he passed him towards the door. “Peachy.” He promised, as he disappeared.

 

John watched after him for a moment, before shaking his head and returning to the reason he’d come in here in the first place.

  
  


When he came out, Eliza and Alexander were nowhere to be seen.

 

A glance at the window told John that the sky was lowly overhung now, the threat of rain ever more persistent.

 

He was grateful Martha had a car, and the two wouldn’t be walking anywhere significant.

 

The two departed, stopping by Starbucks for some coffee’s - one iced for Hercules, some ridiculous espresso-heavy latte for Martha, and an Americano for John - and were on their way back to the workshop.

  
  


When they returned, John noted that it was barely ten-thirty, and he still had a good hour before class.

 

Hercules thanked them absently for the coffee, obviously engulfed in measuring out and sewing materials.

 

John’s eyes wandered occasionally to the small, high windows around the workshop as he pondered the dark, gray clouds that hung low in the sky, their release imminent.

 

John had always liked thunderstorms; the smell of the rain, the closeness of the sky, the sound of thunder and the bright cracks of lightning.

 

Now, he was nervous though. Whether it was for himself or the boy he kept trying his damndest to push from his mind, he couldn’t be sure.

 

Before he knew it, it was eleven and he and Martha were heading out again - she’d said it was preposterous for him to walk in such weather, not letting up when he showed her the umbrella he’d brought - so he could make it to class.

  
  


He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told Martha he paid little attention in class. Not because he didn’t care, but because thus far into the school year he almost always had something more relevant occupying his thoughts.

 

Today, it was Alexander.

 

Alexander, who John absolutely could not figure out. He seemed closed off when John first met him. Secretive, in the way someone who’s seen a lot and regrets a lot is.

 

Covert, like he carried immense ideas and thoughts but they were meant for only his mind to ponder.

 

But that late Friday night, when they’d kissed…

 

John had felt so close that night, to unlocking Alexander’s secrets.

 

But his eyes had given enough warning that John hadn’t pushed him.

 

He could never push him to reveal more than he was comfortable with.

 

Contrarily, at the beach last night, the way Alexander had run along the shore, barefoot in the waves, his eyes sparkling at John…

 

He was forced back to the present by a repremansive, “Laurens!” from the professor.

 

“Hm?” He asked, suddenly aware of the eyes of the other students on him.

 

Professor Andre was eyeing him suspiciously. He had an almost sad, but stern look. “Welcome to class, John.” He turned back to the board and continued with what he had been saying.

 

John tried to pay attention after that, listening to the words the professor was saying, though they seemed rather to go in one ear and out the other.

 

And soon enough, he was thinking about Alexander again, the carefree way he’d danced along the beach, all that weight and responsibility forgotten in the salty night air.

 

When the professor dismissed them, John shot a text to Martha, asking for an update on the dress situation, and then returned to his dorm.

 

When he opened the door, he found Lafayette situated on his bed, back to the door, hunched over his computer.

 

He didn’t look up when John walked in, so he decided better than to interrupt his roommate.

 

As he settled into his desk chair, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

**From: Marty McFly     12:38pm**

**Herc had to go to class, he’ll finish after**

 

**From: Marty McFly     12:38pm**

**Wanna get lunch?**

 

John raised an eyebrow, and quickly confirmed, before switching his laptop and notes for his sketchbook in his bag, and then heading back out.

 

When Martha pulled up to the front of the building to pick John up, the dismal grey clouds drizzled into puddles and pools littering the streets.

 

John was glad for the heated seats in Martha’s fancy modern car, as he watched the raindrops trace little paths down the window on their way to the diner.

 

When they arrived, John was still having trouble keeping his mind in the present, thinking about his plans with Alexander that night.

 

They were seated, and the server had just finished taking their orders when Martha’s eyes fixed on John’s expectantly.

 

He glanced away, examining a portrait on the wall.

 

When he had taken as long as he could claim to be casual, he turned back to see her still looking at him like that.

 

He raised an eyebrow innocently. “What?”

 

She just narrowed her eyes.

 

John frowned. “What?” He repeated, a little more defensively.

 

Martha pursed her lips. “You wanna know how me and Davina met?”

 

John was slightly taken aback, but nodded encouragingly.

 

She smiled down at her plate, a light blush on her cheeks. “So, for a while I was, um… I was on Tinder,” She held up a hand. “Which I’m confiding in you, and you can’t give me shit for,” She gave John a pointed look.

 

He couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his own face, but to his credit didn’t laugh, only gestured her to continue.

 

“So I had my settings to only guys, because - I don’t know, because I didn’t know? Or I didn’t want to or whatever - I don’t know. The point is, that’s how I had it. So I got a match, and it was just some guy - didn’t seem like anything special - but we met up, at a bar, and we got to talking. We had a few drinks, you know, the way it goes… We started talking about going somewhere else. Well, I was living in a studio with Mary,”

 

John’s stomach twisted uncomfortably at the mention of his younger sister. It must have shown on his face, because Martha’s expression softened. 

 

“Have you talked to her since you moved?” She asked.

 

John swallowed, his throat inexplicably dry. He just shook his head, afraid that words would fail him.

 

She gave a small smile. “She’ll be at the wedding, Johnny. So will Hank.”

 

John frowned. “And Frances?”

 

Martha dropped her gaze. “No she… She won’t be there.” Her voice suggested she didn’t want to say anything more. 

 

John decided to let it drop. “Okay, when you were living in a studio with Mary, you were on a Tinder date?” He prompted instead.

 

Her light expresion came back. “Right. So I said we couldn’t go back to my place because I had a roommate. And so we were off towards his place - don’t worry, I had pepper spray, I was being careful and everything - and we were taking a cab, since we’d both been drinking. So we get back to his place, and you know, things were  _ happening _ , when someone walks in.” She pressed her lips together, her expression torn between amused and embarrassed. “So the guy I’m with jumps up, and starts babbling to this girl that just walked in, telling her he’s sorry, and he’s drunk, and he didn’t know what he was doing, and the girl starts yelling.”

 

The server returned with their food, and John and Martha both thanked him politely before turning back to their food, and Martha to her story.

 

“So the girl is screaming, and the guy starts yelling, and she just starts shouting, ‘Out! Out!’ over and over. I figure, that’s  _ my _ cue to leave, and I start to collect my clothes up. When I look up though, the girl is pushing the guy towards the door, and then out of it. She doesn’t even spare me a glance, as she  _ locks the door _ , and then starts pulling shit out of a dresser and - I kid you not -  _ throws it out the window. _ ”

 

John gaped at her, and Martha seemed encouraged.

 

“Right? So then she has this whole thing going, she throws all his shit out, and the last thing - he’s still apologizing and trying to convince her to ‘just get over it’ and telling her, ‘it’s not a big deal’, that type shit - and the last thing she does, is she pulls a  _ diamond ring _ off of her finger, chucks it out the window, and she tells him to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. Then, after all that, she slams the window shut, and she stands there fuming for a few seconds. This is the first time she really takes notice of me, and she kind of looked at me, and then she just sinks down to the floor and starts crying.” Martha’s smile slipped away a bit. “She was hurt. So I put my clothes back on - hoping that might help, since I’m sure seeing her fiance’s mistress naked on her floor wasn’t making her feel any better - and apologized. I told her I didn’t know, and she told me it wasn’t my fault. I asked her if she wanted me to leave, or if… If she didn’t want to be alone, after that. She really appreciated that, and we…” The amused glint was back in her eye. “We stayed up all night, sipping wine, and talking shit about her ex-fiance.”

 

She looked up at John, eyes gleaming.

 

“That was Davina?” He asked, and Martha nodded.

 

“Turned out, she wasn’t really in love with him or anything, but he was good enough to her, he had a lot of money and was keeping her well enough, but…” She shook her head. “She had suspected for a while that he wasn’t faithful.”

 

Now she locked her gaze onto John’s, a deadly sincerity in her eyes. “But even though she didn’t love him, knowing that he did that broke something in her. It left her with a sort of hurt, a mistrust that she’s never shaken.” Her expression turned to something more stern. “She’s always worried she isn’t enough. It hurt her _bad_ , John.”

 

Now it was John’s turn to drop his gaze.  _ Even though she didn’t love him _ . He swallowed, turning his attention to his food. “That’s a cute story, though.” He deflected, studying his plate.

 

There was a beat of silence between them, as John chewed his lip.

 

After a moment, Martha spoke up again. “Johnny, I love Davina.”

 

When he met her eyes, they were searching. Open. Earnest. 

 

“I love her, so much that it  _ hurts _ sometimes, and… And knowing that I caused her that pain,” She scanned his eyes. “It  _ kills _ me. All the time, I think about that night, and I wonder if she wouldn’t be better off… But that’s not the point. What I mean to say is, the pain that someone feels from having a partner cheat on them… It’s so damaging, Johnny. And the guilt never goes away.” She was looking at him seriously, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

 

He only nodded, uncertain of what would come out if he tried to speak.

 

She took his hand across the table. “But I had another point in telling you that story too.” She continued, now looking sympathetic. “Davina was with that guy because it was safe. It was easy, and it had just… Happened. And she was going to marry him. Not because she loved him, but because she didn’t love anyone else  _ more _ , and he gave her what she thought was meant to come out of a relationship.” She had a knowing glint in her eye, and John realized what she was talking about.

 

“Are you saying-?”

 

“What I’m saying,” She cut him off. “Is that if you really,  _ really  _ like this Alex guy, and if it’s meant to be, then he won’t be with that girl much longer. But John, really… Be careful with who you give your heart to. If you fall, and it turns out he isn’t there to catch you…”

 

John nodded, understanding. “I know, Marty.” He gave a small smile. “We have plans tonight.” He admitted.

 

She raised her eyebrows, a more humorous glint in her eyes. “Oh?”

 

John nodded, blushing down at his food. “We have to talk about… Stuff, so we’re going to have some drinks tonight and talk it out.”

 

Martha looked skeptical, but nodded slightly. “Be careful, Johnny.” She warned.

 

John gave a small, appreciative smile. “Always.”

 

Martha’s phone chimed in her pocket, and she dug it out. “Oh, it’s Hercules. He’s back at the shop, said it shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes and I can come pick it up.” She fired back a text, and then put her phone away and polished off the rest of her food. “Wanna come with me? We can get coffee on the way.”

 

John smiled. “I’m always up for coffee.” He began to stand, as she left a tip for their waiter, and the two headed out.

 

“I should get one for Herc too, huh?” She pondered, as the two ducked their heads against the rain on their way out to the car.

 

“It’s Herc now, huh? Don’t go stealing my best friend.” He teased, earning an eye roll from his sister.

 

“He’s  _ my _ tailor.” She defended, as she climbed in on the driver’s side and started the car.

 

Now it was John’s turn to roll his eyes, as the two pulled out of the parking lot in comfortable silence.

 

They went through the drive thru at Starbucks for the second time that day, and then were on their way to Hercules’ workshop.

 

When they arrived, he glanced up from what he was doing and smiled when Martha held out the iced coffee.

 

“Thank you very much,” He nodded to her, taking the coffee with one hand while still holding the fabric in place with the other. “Just one more minute…” 

 

“No rush,” Martha assured him, as he ran the sewing machine over the final seam, and cut off the string, a triumphant look on his face.

 

He pulled the dress off the table, holding it out to Martha.

 

She took it gingerly, a look of relief and glee flooding her face. She looked like she was about to gush with thanks, when Hercules held up a hand to speak.

 

“Don’t thank me yet,” He gestured towards a fitting room in a corner of the workspace. “Try it on first.” He instructed.

 

Martha gave him a grateful look, and continued towards the room.

 

John watched her go affectionately, a little more bounce in her step now.

 

He didn’t think it’d be much to see her in the dress - he’d seen her, and he’d seen the dress, so what was new? - and when she came out he knew right away he was mistaken.

 

True that it was the same dress - flowy and filled out now, the gold embroidery glinting in the light - but seeing it on the dummy was nothing to seeing it on Martha.

 

It was breathtaking. John had to take a moment to recover, and during this moment a smug look replaced the blush that had taken Martha’s face upon exiting the dressing room.

 

She crossed her arms, as John gave his head a slight shake and smiled warmly. “You’re gorgeous, Marty.” He told her, a light tone to his voice.

 

She punched him in the arm. “Shut up. Does it look like it’s fitting right, Herc?” She asked, doing a little spin.

 

Hercules was grinning, and gave her a thumbs up. “It  _ looks _ like it fits fine, does it feel right?” He asked her, moving closer to get a better look.

 

She shrugged, allowing him to toy with the seams along the sides of the bodice where he’d grafted in other materiel.

 

“This seems right to me.” Hercules said, a little more confidently.

 

Martha smiled wide. “Thank you again, Hercules, you have no idea what this means.” She seemed to hesitate for a second, then wrapped her arms around the tailor.

 

Herc seemed surprised and paused for a moment, before hugging her back. “Don’t mention it.” He insisted good-naturedly.

 

Martha was still beaming when she pulled back, giving Hercules a quick peck on the cheek before returning to the dressing room to change back into her clothes.

 

John watched her absentmindedly, smiling softly at the way she trotted quickly but carefully towards the room.

 

Once she was inside the dressing room again, John turned to Hercules.

 

“She isn’t being dramatic, this really means a lot.” John told him.

 

The tailor smiled gently. “I know. That’s why it’s no trouble.” He explained.

 

John shook his head. “What’d I do to deserve you?” He asked, jokingly.

 

Hercules shrugged. “I don’t know man, you must have mad good karma or something-” He was cut off laughing as John rolled his eyes melodramatically, and the two laughed together until Martha was out of the dressing room.

 

The three conversed lightly as Martha pulled out her wallet and paid for the materials used in the dress - Hercules wouldn’t accept anything more than that - and informed Hercules that he was welcome at her wedding as well.

 

They said their goodbyes, as Martha and John made their way back out to the car through the spattering of rain.

 

Since John had class in a few hours, Martha dropped him back in front of the school right as the rain began to pick up, and she headed for her hotel.

 

When John arrived back at his dorm, Lafayette was nowhere to be seen. John only passingly took note of this, as he had been planning on cracking down on his homework anyway- it was beginning to get out of hand.

 

He worked until it was time to go to his final class of the day, and then left, seeing no sign of Lafayette in that time.

 

He tried to pay attention in class, stubbornly trying to keep Alexander out of his mind while it fought back with just as much gusto.

 

He was relieved when the class was out and it was just a matter of watching the clock until he could see him.

 

And they were going to have some conversation indeed, perhaps even  _ that _ conversation.

 

When John arrived back at the dorm, these thoughts swirling around in his head, Lafayette was sitting on the floor conversing loudly in French on a video call.

 

He gave John a quick smile when he walked in, and a wave.

 

“ _ Qui était-ce? _ ” John heard over the speaker.

 

“ Mon colocataire, John.” Lafayette answered, giving the other man a look.

 

John frowned, shrugging; he’d only been taking French a few weeks.

 

Lafayette waved him off. 

 

“ _ Oh, dis-lui bonjour de ma part _ .” Said the person on the other side.

 

“Oui. John, my brother Michel says hi.” He translated.

 

John nodded. “Tell him hi back.”

 

“John te dit bonjour aussi.” Lafayette returned.

 

John smiled warmly as the two fell back into easy conversation.

 

His mind drifted to his own other siblings.

 

Martha had said Mary and Hank would be at the wedding, but Frances…

 

Frances and John had had a complicated relationship in the past; Frances insisted that he was to set a good example for Hank, to be successful and positive and gentlemanly and while John had always more or less done that, his sister and him tended to not see eye to eye on what exactly that entailed.

 

He also thought about Peggy, how she’d said he should call up his other sisters. 

 

That they’d be happy to hear from him at all.

 

He’d been closer with Martha than his other siblings, so while their reunion had gone smoothly he had still wasn’t sure what to expect from Frances or Mary or Hank.

 

And Frances wasn’t coming to the wedding. That came back to John, nagging at him because  _ why _ ? Why wasn’t she going? Had her and Martha gotten into a fight? Had she refused invitation, or had Martha not invited her to begin with?

 

All of this was too much to consider, and John shook his head.

 

He pulled out his sketchpad, plugged his headphones into his phone and played some laid back music as he began to sketch out a rough outline.

  
  


Before he knew it, it was seven fifteen and before him was a sprawling landscape of the beach, the stars, disrupted by gray clouds, and a figure dancing through the waves gracefully.

 

It wasn’t a finished product, but a pretty well rounded sketch. Certain he was short on time, John headed out towards the fire escape to wait.

 

Anxiety mounting, he opened the window to find the sodden clouds graciously holding back their drops.

 

John climbed carefully out onto the metal grate, finding it surprisingly dry.

 

He glanced up to see an overhang protected this escape from rain, at least directly above.

 

And there he waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohh YOU thought you were gonna hear what they talk about in THIS chapter?
> 
> Well, sorry to disappoint! You'll have to wait for that! Hopefully not too long - I may just upload in a few days when I get bored of other things ahaa but who knows! Let me know what you think in the comments below - I love to hear from y'all!


	12. It Comes Back Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander and John certainly have a lot to talk about. What's the harm in a little social lubricant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said today and it's technically still today! Like 11:57pm lmaoo

He only had to wait there for a few minutes before Alexander turned up, a plastic shopping bag in his hand and an easy smile on his face.

 

“Hey.” He greeted casually, climbing out beside John and eyeing the cloudy sky uncertainly.

 

“It’s done raining for now,” John observed. “You can see the stars through the clouds.” He pointed out, looking up at the dappled gaps in the clouds where, sure enough, the starlight came through.

 

Alexander nodded absently, looking unconvinced but moving easily despite himself.

 

He pulled out the bottle with a grin. “Shall we?” He offered.

 

The bottle had a figure on the front that almost looked like a man, with the head of a dragon and a long tail.

 

It read  _ Fireball _ above the logo, and  _ Cinnamon Whiskey _ below it.

 

John eyed the bottle warily. “I’ve never tried that,” He pointed out.

 

Alexander looked mildly surprised. “Really? Fireball’s my go-to.” He admitted, pulling a liter sized bottle of coke out of the shopping bag, as well as two plastic cups.

 

“All out for me tonight, eh?” John teased, taking the proffered cup as Alexander rolled his eyes.

 

Alexander poured his own drink, before offering the mixing materials to John.

 

Not wanting to look like he didn’t know what he was doing, John tried to copy exactly the ratio between drink and mixer that his friend had, and ended up with perhaps a little more than he should have taken.

 

The two sipped their drinks in silence for a minute, and John studied the other boy.

 

Alexander’s posture was tense, his shoulders drawn up and forward, and his brow set as he watched the sky warily, his hair flowing slowly in the gentle breeze.

 

John felt the alcohol warming him as it burned a path through his chest, and he considered Alexander’s face.

 

Despite his tense posture, Alexander’s face was open. His eyes were gentle, careful, calculating, as though he were running through infinite possibilities and considering the connotations of their situation carefully.

 

His mouth was lax, resting in a straight line as he considered his surroundings.

 

Slowly, he licked his lips, and John forced himself to look away. He couldn’t afford those thoughts, not when Alexander had a girl. 

 

“When I was a kid, we always had really bad storms in my hometown. We got hurricane warnings all the time, and no one really worried too bad about them, we usually just would go into the central room in the house, and wait out the storm. Then when I was about fifteen, we were in the midst of a really bad storm, and the hurricane sirens come on.” He swallowed thickly, and took a long drink from his cup. “The storm was really bad, and um… Even inside the house, we saw how bad it was - there was all kinds of flooding, and it went on and on for what felt like eternity - but that was nothing compared to what was outside.”

 

He paused, taking another long drink from his drink and wincing at the burn. “Outside was… It was like hell.” He let out a shaky laugh, turning his gaze to the sky. “I was fifteen, and I saw… Unbelievable destruction.” He shook his head. “I saw the bodies of my neighbors, people I’d grown up with, waterlogged…” He swallowed again, and then finished off his drink.

 

Neither of them spoke as Alexander refilled his drink. “And I don’t want you to think any less of me, or that I need your sympathy, that it was some… Some big  _ thing _ ,” He met John’s eyes momentarily, sincerely, and then shook his head and turned his gaze back to the stars. “But I felt like you deserved an explanation; I have a thing about storms, because of that.”

 

Now his gaze locked onto John’s, his expression set but unreadable, his eyes searching and strangely guarded.

 

John gave a small nod, trying to keep his expression open and earnest. He figured Alexander didn’t want to hear any apologies, based on his tone, so he opted instead for, “Where are you from?”

 

“A little island in the Caribbean, La Croix.” He dropped his gaze. “Haven’t been down there since, though.” He admitted.

 

John raised an eyebrow. “You moved after the storm?” He guessed.

 

Alexander faltered, and took another long, thoughtful drink. “Yeah, it was a little more complicated than that, but… Yeah.”

 

John nodded, taking a drink from his own cup.

 

After a moments silence, he downed the rest of his drink and reached for the bottle to refill it.

 

As he was pouring, Alexander spoke up again. “What about you? Southern, I’d guess?”

 

John nodded, surprised at the accuracy of the guess. “South Carolina, as South as the South gets.” He muttered, a hint of bitterness seeping into his tone.

 

Alexander looked mildly surprised, but nodded slightly, sipping his drink.

 

John had an idea, and turned towards his friend, raising his cup. “Never have I ever?” He suggested, a mischievous edge to his voice.

 

Alexander looked slightly wary, but shrugged, tapping his cup to John’s.

 

“Never have I ever…” John pondered a moment, and decided to take the leap; “Had a serious girlfriend.”

 

Alexander looked surprised, then thoughtful. After a moment’s pause, he took a drink slowly. “Guess it depends on your definition of ‘serious’, but, you know…”

 

John cocked his head, raising an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?” He prompted when he didn’t get an immediate answer.

 

The older boy’s face fell slightly, and then he smiled to himself. “Well like, take Eliza, for example;” John’s heart sank at the mention of the name.  _ Stop that _ . “We’ve only been dating for a couple weeks, but I really,  _ really _ like her. Not that I’m like, sure we’re  _ soulmates _ or anything crazy like that - just that I… I  _ really _ like her.”

 

_ I really like her. I really like her. _ It echoed in John’s head for a few moments.

 

_ He didn’t say he loved her, _ said a little voice in his head. He didn’t totally push the thought aside. 

 

“That-that’s- ugh, sappy much?” John opted for a teasing tone. 

 

Alexander rolled his eyes. “Okay, then I’ll do you one better; never have I ever had a serious  _ boyfriend _ .”

 

John shrugged, not lifting his drink. He smirked triumphantly. “Never have I ever… Sent nudes.”

 

Alexander flushed slightly, and slowly took a drink. “This is spoken in confidence.” He leveled a dangerous look at John, though his eyes danced with humour. “And it was one time.” 

 

John couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his lips, but put a hand to his heart. “What happens on the fire escape stays on the fire escape.” He smiled a little more gently, and offered his pinky. “Promise?”

 

Alexander looked for a moment like he was going to laugh at the arbitrary gesture, but instead hooked his pinky through John’s. “Promise.”

 

Alexander gave a soft smile, and then glanced back to the dark sky. “Never have I ever… Been in love.” He said it almost solemnly.

 

John pressed his lips together, raising his hands innocently. “Strike two.” He teased, and then considered carefully. “Never have I ever… Needed glasses.”

 

Alexander narrowed his eyes. “I think that’s cheating.” He accused, taking a drink nevertheless. “Never have I ever…” He hummed thoughtfully, as he considered John.

 

John watched him carefully as well, scanning his dark eyes. Alexander had a certain look about him - one of the things that drew John to him in the first place - like he was waiting. Waiting for an opportunity to speak, an opening to move, a chance to show himself and prove his worth.

 

He had a glint in his eye like ‘Just watch me.’ while his expression betrayed little of what he was thinking. He had an air of hard work, of reckless abandon and almost desperation that implied he’d fought tooth and nail to get to where he was, and he’d do it again if the need arose.

 

John blinked, trying to draw his thoughts away from the boy in front of him by diverting his gaze to the sky. “Hey, look.” He smiled softly, gesturing towards the sky.

 

In the time they were out there, the clouds had broken up even more, revealing dappled stars and open sky above them.

 

When he turned his gaze back to Alexander, the older boy was staring at the sky. His neck fully exposed towards John, the starlight reflecting in his eyes, the pale city lights illuminating his soft features, as a smile formed on his lips.

 

He turned back to John with a sparkle in his eyes, like he’d had that night at the beach.

 

His look of awe morphed into a more mischievous one, as he opened his mouth to speak. “Wanna go back to the beach?”

 

John frowned. “On a Tuesday night? At-” He glanced at his phone. “-just after curfew?” But Alexander’s smile was contagious. “You bet your ass I do.” 

 

They each downed the rest of their drinks, before Alexander carefully packed the bottles of fireball and coke back into the grocery bag, and the two began their descent.

 

The night was cool and crisp, as scattered puddles reminded them of the passing storm and the wind whistled through the many towering buildings and streetlights that dotted the streets.

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, taking in the cool night, the alcohol warming them both from within.

 

They passed a grassy park, and John decided this time to pay more attention to the path they took.

 

It was quiet a long while, and John reveled in it; Alexander’s presence was easy, uncomplicated. The two had gotten along well so far, and John wouldn’t have rather been anywhere with anyone than there, with him, that night.

 

Of course to vocalize those thoughts would be awkwardly sappy and definitely put a damper on the mood, as well as possibly giving Alexander the wrong idea.

 

Not that the wrong idea was ‘wrong’, per se, but it wasn’t exactly  _ right _ either.

 

John glanced over at his walking companion, and noticed Alexander chewing at his lip absently.

 

He looked to be in deep thought, as though he were considering a heavy problem.

 

His teeth sunk into his lip, slowly and thoughtfully, and John couldn’t help but notice what full lips they were indeed.

 

A glance his way from Alexander and John tried harshly to put this thought from his mind, forcing his slightly inebriated eyes back up to meet Alexander’s, and then smiling and looking back at the path before them.

 

He cursed himself inwardly for being so obvious, and felt a blush rise on the back of his neck.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Alexander still watching him, studying him almost.

 

It made the heat spread to John’s cheeks and ears, as he tried to think about anything but the boy beside him, anything _ but _ those dark, thoughtful eyes and set, full lips and  _ god _ he was in trouble.

 

_ He has a girl. He has a girl. He has a girl. _

 

He thought about Peggy, and how much she loved her sisters, and how much it would hurt Eliza, and by extension Peggy and Angelica, if anything happened between him and Alexander.

 

It occurred to him, however, that Alexander had said he had never been in love. He had only said he really liked Eliza, not that he was in love with her.

 

Then he thought about Martha, and the conversation they’d had a lunch;  _ Even though she didn’t love him _ .

 

It didn’t matter if Alexander and Eliza were soulmates, or if they’d break up in the next week. Either way, John couldn’t do that to Eliza. He couldn’t.

 

He  _ wouldn’t _ .

 

Martha had had it easy, she hadn’t known she was breaking someone’s heart.

 

John’s conscience wouldn’t allow that.

 

Even if it would, he realized, Alexander was probably not in that school of thought at all, since he had really,  _ really _ liked Eliza, other people would be put out from his mind.

 

He wouldn’t have considered John that way. Secondly, his relationship with Eliza told John one crucial thing about his friend; he liked girls. 

 

John was perfectly aware that some people liked boys  _ and _ girls, and everything on either side or in between, but he had trouble taking Alexander for the type that liked guys.

 

If their little escapade when Alexander had been sick was any indicator - the fact that he had so casually kissed John, barely even thinking to make a big deal of it - he wasn’t into boys.

 

John could take that. He really could.

 

The younger boy had been so lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed Alexander stop until he was several feet beyond him.

 

When John turned to see where he had gone, his friend was just standing a few feet back, watching John with that calculating look on his face.

 

John was about to say something about it, when Alexander spoke. “How much do you remember, from the night I was sick in your dorm?”

 

His voice was dangerously calm, his eyes betraying his anxiety.

 

John blinked, and cast his gaze downwards. “Everything.” He admitted.

 

He half expected Alexander to say something repremansive, but when he looked up, the other boy just shrugged. “Okay.” He continued walking until he was caught up to John, and the younger boy fell back into step.

 

A few beats of silence passed, during which the two came out of the shadow of an alley onto an open street, before John spoke up again.

 

“Why do you ask?” He piped up, his voice small and careful.

 

Alexander was quiet for a long time, as if considering his words. “I just… Have done a lot of thinking, um, about that night.” 

 

This took John by surprise, and he felt a hopeful flutter in his chest.

 

He quickly scolded himself - Alexander  _ still _ had a girl, after all - as the two paced into another dark alley between to large apartment complexes.

 

He swallowed thickly. “That so?”

 

Alexander only nodded, as the two came out the other side and into the open night air, the beach coming into sight.

 

They were quiet as they found a spot on the beach, barely out of reach of the waves, and settled in under the starry, slightly cloudy sky.

 

Once they were settled, Alexander pulled the bottle of fireball back out and took a long drink from it.

 

When he looked up to meet John’s eyes, his were shining with curiosity and wonder. “You know John, I’ve never met someone quite like you.”

 

John frowned, taking the bottle as it was offered to him and taking a long drink himself, hoping to blame the blush no doubt flushing his face a bright red on the burn of the alcohol as he felt it heat his chest against the chilly night.

 

When he was finished, he handed the bottle back to his friend. “What do you mean by that?” He asked, hoping Alexander wouldn’t hear just how delighted he was to hear it.

 

“I mean  _ you _ , John, you’re…” He shook his head, turning his gaze out over the calm waves. He took another thoughtful drink from the bottle. “Country kid, born and raised in South Carolina, despite that you have more of a libertarian ideal, crazy struggles with sexuality, the most perfect jawline I’ve ever seen, a  _ galaxy _ of carefully laid plans, societal expectations and social pressures all carefully capped and gracefully accepted and handled, showing in a pair of beautiful green eyes…” He trailed off as he turned back to meet John’s eyes, his gaze slowly working down towards… _ No _ .

 

John watched with his eyebrows raised as Alexander’s eyes snapped back to his, and his cheeks tinted pink as he took another swig of fireball, before offering the bottle to John.

 

The younger graciously accepted, turning his gaze to the sea in a last ditch effort to hide the blush that he was sure was there now - his face felt like it was on fire.

 

He took a long drink from the bottle, feeling the burning sensation in his chest match up with the one in his face and neck.

 

John took the bottle away from his lips for a second, took a deep, measured breath, and then took another long drink, praying Alexander wouldn’t say anything else like that because  _ God _ if he did, John might just kiss him.

 

The younger boy ran a hand through his hair as he handed the now more than half empty bottle of alcohol back to his friend.

 

The two sat in silence a few more moments, John thinking over what Alexander had said.

 

He’d called John’s eyes beautiful, and had been totally unapologetic about it.

 

But that wasn’t even what caught John about the sentence - it had surely made his now fairly intoxicated stomach do flips - but more than that, he had read John’s entire life and condensed the realization the younger had only begun to come to recently about his own life, but it into words and called it the way it was.

 

John wasn’t sure whether to be flattered, offended, worried, excited or downright scared.

 

When Alexander handed the bottle back to him, he took it and their hands brushed.

 

John knew the thought was cheesy, but he felt a jolt of electricity from where their fingertips had touched, and hid the smile that crept onto his face by taking a long, heavy drink from the bottle.

 

He wasn’t sure how it happened, but in the silence as they passed the bottle back and forth and just watched the waves, the bottle slowly drained until it was empty.

 

John thought,  _ That’s a lot of alcohol _ .

 

As he was thinking this, Alexander reached out and took his hand.

 

When John looked up to meet his eyes, they were slightly droopy but still very alert, almost anxious as he looked at John. “ _ Beautiful _ green eyes…” He repeated, a slight slur to his voice.

 

John looked away, blushing, but squeezed Alexander’s hand.

 

The older boy seemed to consider him for a minute, before suddenly he released John’s hand and began to remove his shoes.

 

Not willing to be left behind again, John immediately followed his example this time and began untying his converse.

 

Once the two were properly ridden of their shoes and socks, and had rolled their pants up sufficiently, and deposited their phones in their shoes, John touched a toe to the icy waves.

 

“Alex, this water is cold as  _ fuck _ .” John commented, although it did feel good in contrast to his hot head and cheeks.

 

When he looked up, Alexander was smiling at him absently, and shrugged. “Worth it.” He took John’s hand again and pulled him along, racing through the shallows.

 

It  _ was _ cold, but that only made it feel like more of an adventure. And the warmth of Alexander’s hand in his and the heat he felt in his face was enough to distract from the cold water and chilling wind.

 

Once they were down the beach a ways, Alexander released John’s hand and raced ahead of him, turning around to kick water back at the younger boy. 

 

“Hey!” John objected, slowing down and splashing back with just as much force, a smile on his face despite himself.

 

Alexander stumbled slightly, and laughing heartily as he reached his hand into the waves and splashed his friend.

 

John scrunched up his face. “Are you crazy?” He hissed, trying to keep his voice down just in case anyone was nearby.

 

He reached towards the water, flinging a good amount towards the older boy but almost losing his balance in the process.

 

Alexander ran at John, getting a good splash onto the other boy before dodging behind him.

 

John couldn’t help but laugh at the carefree way the other boy moved, because the spirit was contagious. 

 

He tried to turn and make a quick moved to splash Alexander, but he was closer than John thought and the younger boy collided with him, taking them both down into the waves.

 

Alexander sputtered as the John got to his hands and knees to find himself with a hand planted on either side of the older boy’s head.

 

He didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the stress of the past few weeks, the way the starlight illuminated Alexander’s features, the way his friend was looking up at him with droopy, longing eyes or a combination of all of these things, but something came over John and he leaned down and kissed him.

 

Alexander gave no resistance, and wrapped a hand around John’s waist, pulling him down so he was laying on top of him.

 

John didn’t want to think how badly he’d wanted this.

 

The kiss was slow, as he reached a hand and tangled it in Alexander’s hair, feeling himself being swept into the emotion of the moment.

 

The waves lapped lightly at the two where they lay, as John pulled back momentarily before Alexander pulled him down again and they kissed again, this time a little rougher and more needy.

 

John had wanted this  _ so badly _ .

 

Alexander’s other hand came up to John’s back, moving slowly in large circles and John drew his other hand to cup Alexander’s cheek.

 

John didn’t protest when Alexander deepened the kiss, because  _ God _ he had  _ wanted this so badly. _

 

Alexander knew what he was doing to, as he carefully sat up, trailing kisses along John’s jawline, down his exposed neck and John shivered against the cold, pressing into Alexander’s embrace.

 

The older student carefully turned John around so he was situated beneath him, as their movements became more rushed, sloppy due to their shared state of intoxication.

 

John felt Alexander’s teeth scrape his neck and couldn’t help the small sound that escaped his lips, wrapping a hand around the older boys neck.

 

He reached up and caught Alexander’s lips again with his - he didn’t really know what he was doing, but it felt  _ amazing _ \- and his breath caught as Alexander’s hand found its way town to his thigh.

 

John felt Alexander’s other hand on the hem of his shirt, and didn’t resist as the older boy pulled his shirt over his head.

 

He was slightly shocked by the chill of the waves, and the biting wind but he was drunk enough and Alexander’s body was still pressed closely against his that it didn’t matter.

 

Alexander’s breath was hot on his neck as he pressed hot kisses trailing down to his collarbone.

 

His tongue grazed John’s collarbone and he felt like his heart stopped. Alexander knew  _ exactly _ what he was doing.

 

He was leaving a trail of kisses, down John’s chest and towards his stomach as John’s hands ran over his back and his breath heaved.

 

_ He had wanted this so badly _ .

 

Then before John knew it, Alexander’s hand was on his belt buckle and John froze.

 

Alexander had worked the belt undone and started on the button of his pants when John frantically sat up, successfully pulling himself out from underneath Alexander.

 

The latter, for his part, looked confused, slightly taken aback, and really,  _ really _ drunk.

 

John took his hand, and shook his head. “Alex, I’ve never…” He hoped he wouldn’t have to finish that sentence.

 

Realization seemed to dawn on the older boy, and his eyes went wide. 

 

He quickly dropped his gaze, blushing.

 

The moment the two had gotten swept up in had passed, as they panted through swollen lips and neither would look the other in the eyes.

 

After a few moments, John shivered against the cold and decided it best to get out of the icy water.

 

He offered a hand to Alexander once he’d stood, and the other graciously accepted, stumbling to his feet with as much grace as an emu with swollen feet.

 

John picked up his soaking shirt from the waves, glad the discarded garment hadn’t drifted away, and started back for where they’d dropped their shoes.

 

John was soaking wet, he realized, as the chilly spring air bit at his bare chest and shoulders.

 

The reality of what had just happened started to sink in. John had kissed Alexander. Alexander, who had a girl. Alexander, who he’d spent however long convincing himself wasn’t into guys.

 

Alexander had kissed him back.

 

Alexander, who looked at John with the same awe as he gaped at the open sky with.

 

Alexander, who had said he had beautiful eyes.

 

Alexander, who John had thought about little else than kissing for weeks.

 

Alexander, who was  _ dating Eliza Schuyler _ .

 

He desperately tried to push away these thoughts as he reached their things.

 

In his state - being soaking wet, sloppy drunk, and tired from the walk down there, panting from the activities of moments ago - he simply plopped down on the ground, facing the ocean.

 

He felt Alexander’s hesitance, as the older boy sat beside him on the sand.

 

They sat there, panting and shirtless, in silence as the waves lapped at the shore before them.

 

After a few moments hesitation, John dropped his head to his knees, allowing a groan to escape from his throat, as the weight of what they’d done sank in.

 

Alexander was uncharacteristically quiet, as John mulled over the night.

 

On the one hand, it was terrible; he’d gone and done exactly what Martha had warned him against, and he could only think how it would go over with Eliza.

 

“Oh God,  _ Eliza _ .” John muttered under his breath.

 

He lifted his head and saw Alexander looking at him with droopy eyes and a furrowed brow. “What was that?” He mumbled, laying his head on John’s shoulder. His breath smelled like whiskey.

 

“Alex…” John’s face was heating up again, as he studied Alexander, who had now closed his eyes and leaned his full weight on John.

 

The younger student thought he might be asleep, but his eyes popped open. “Hmm?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

John swallowed thickly as he met the big brown eyes. “Alex, what the fuck did we do?” He was starting to really worry about it.

 

Alexander frowned, and he smirked. “I think we had a good time.” He teased, and John shook his head, and Alexander frowned again. “Unless you  _ didn’t _ have a good time-” He sat up off of John’s shoulder to look him in the eyes straight on, but John was still shaking his head.

 

“No, I had a  _ great _ time, but-”

 

“Then why worry about it?” Alexander was leaning closer to him again, his breath hot on John’s lips. “I’ve never been this close with a guy before.”

 

John, despite himself, didn’t move as Alexander closed the distance between their lips. His tired, drunk mind was too enthralled with the feeling of electricity that coursed through him.

 

He swallowed, and - with a great effort - pulled away. 

 

Unexpectedly, John heard Peggy’s voice in his head; “ _ Live a little!” _ Though he wasn’t sure if she would have encouraged it in this context, it was enough for his drunk brain to shut up and let his body do what it wanted instead.

 

He turned back to Alexander and captured his lips in another kiss and he knew exactly how badly he’d wanted this.

 

Then John was on his back again, and Alexander was trailing kisses past his stomach down to his hips, and when his teeth roughly scraped John’s hipbone, the younger boy let out a louder moan, clapping a hand to his mouth.

 

Alexander, seemingly encouraged by this, touched the button on John’s jeans, and then moved to whisper in the younger boy’s ear. 

 

“May I?” He grabbed the fly as if to undo the button.

 

John hesitated, and then nodded.

 

Alexander, despite saying he’d never been this close with a guy, moved with incredible skill.

 

John’s drunken mind was blown, and by the end of it, both boys were panting on their backs, side by side, their shoulders pressed together against the cold wind.

 

John wasn’t sure how he felt about it either. Physically, he felt great. It had felt great the whole time, but now his stomach churned guiltily.

 

He turned to face Alexander to find the older student with his brow furrowed staring at the sky.

 

John was considering something to say, when he noticed Alexander’s eyes were shining.

 

As he watched, a single tear escaped and rolled down the side of his face, into the sand.

 

Then he closed his eyes, and drew his hands up to rub them with the heels.

 

“Oh, God…” He muttered, his voice shaky. 

 

John guessed he didn’t even need to say anything; Alexander was going to punish himself enough for this.

 

The younger student turned his gaze back to he stars, guilt making his stomach upset.

 

Then he started to get nauseated.

 

_ Oh shit. _

 

John stood quickly, and made his way to a grassy patch by a dock a little ways down the beach, and composedly hurled.

 

“Oh, shit.” He muttered, spitting excess into the bushes.

 

When he turned back around, Alexander was sitting up, watching him with a concerned expression.

 

John gave him a small smile, before turning back to the brush to puke again.

 

He spit a few times for good measure, and then made his way back towards Alexander, who was now watching him with an odd expression.

 

John was fairly dry now, if caked in sand, and decided it only appropriate to return his slightly damp shirt to his chest, pretending not to notice the disappointed look on Alexander’s face as he did so, as well as trying to pull his own eyes away from Alexander’s bare chest.

 

“It’s cold as fuck.” John muttered, a laugh interrupting the last word.

 

Alexander cracked a smile too, as he replaced his own shirt and dug his phone out of his shoe. “Oh,  _ fuck _ .” He ran a hand through his messy hair. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

 

To John, this was, for some reason, hilarious, and he burst out laughing.

 

When John pulled out his phone, he had a missed call from Martha, from eight-thirty. He chewed his lip a moment, before deciding it was definitely not a good idea to respond right now; she’d probably just assume he’d been asleep.

 

As John began to put his socks and then shoes back on, he noticed Alexander watching him, his expression sour.

 

John frowned, and then raised an eyebrow at his friend (if they could still be called that).

 

Alexander quickly looked away, shaking his head. “We should head back, huh?” He sounded disappointed, as if he’d rather stay there then head home at this particular moment.

 

John just nodded, standing and offering a hand to Alexander, who cracked a smile as he took it. “Always the gentleman, eh?”

 

John couldn’t help but return the smile, not unaware of the warmth of the other student’s hand. “It’s a Southern thing.”

 

Alexander nodded, like that made perfect sense, and the two headed back towards the city.

 

John had begun to understand the way they had come, and took close note now as the slowly made their way back towards the campus.

 

The two walked in silence, all the way back to campus until John had to release Alexander’s hand to climb up the fire escape.

 

John desperately hoped the rattling of the metal wouldn’t be enough to wake anyone, as the two slid quietly back in through the window, and both hesitated once inside.

 

John turned around to look at Alexander, to see the older boy watching him with a sad expression.

 

“What’s wrong?” John moved closer to him, taking his hand again.

 

Alexander ran his free hand through his hair, not meeting John’s eyes. 

 

“John I…” He shook his head, dropping his gaze towards the floor and releasing John’s hand. “I have a  _ girlfriend _ .”

 

John stepped back, guilt resurfacing in his stomach. “Oh… Right.”

 

Alexander swallowed, still looking down at the ground, now shaking his head. “I have a girlfriend, and we’re  _ good _ , I really like her, I…” His chest was heaving now, and he finally looked up to meet John’s eyes. “I really,  _ really _ like her.”

 

Now John dropped his gaze. “I know.” He ground his teeth. How could he have been so stupid? And even after Martha had warned him.

 

A beat of silence passed, before Alexander spoke up again, slight panic in his tone. “I-I have to go. Goodnight, John.” He swiftly paced past him and down the hall.

 

John turned to watch him go, considering calling out after him, but decided against it.

 

He stood there a few moments longer, swaying in his drunken state, and then shook his head and headed back to his dorm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that answers some questions! I hope it doesn't leave you with too many more lmao.
> 
> Leave me a comment! I love yo hear from yall


	13. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is forced to face the aftermath of the night on the beach.
> 
> It was a beautiful time, but was it worth what it meant?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been five days! School only started F I V E D A Y S A G O
> 
> Kill me please. High school is evil. Sorry to vent, but my emotional state is heavily reflected in this, so I thought you all deserved to know the cause of all this suffering.
> 
> Did I say suffering? I meant... Um... Something else.
> 
> Okay sorry for that. Just... Enjoy.
> 
> :EDIT: GUYS IGNORE WHAT YOU'VE HEARD ABOUT THE SCHUYLER BROTHERS  
> I REWROTE THE PART THAT WAS WRONG BUT IT WAS AN IMPORTANT DETAIL Just don't like worry too much about it but (spoiler) they show up later aaaand I had their ages written differently than I have it then, for important reasons.
> 
> Just... Yeah.

The next morning, John woke to his alarm blaring frantically in his ear.

 

With a groan, he realized he hadn’t plugged it in before he went to bed last night.

 

 _Last night_.

 

Images flashed through his head of the stars, the clouds, glass bottles and the waves.

 

Then the _feelings_ came back; soft touches, trailing hands, even as far as teeth, icy waves, the wet sand beneath his back, and… _Oh God._

 

He sat bolt upright in bed. “Oh _fuck_.” He muttered out loud, drawing a hand to his pounding head.

 

“Fun night, ami?” Lafayette asked from where he sat at his desk.

 

John started to shake his head, but that made him dizzy. He stood, and that was the end of it; he bolted for the bathroom, to heave and expel stomach acid into the toilet.

 

He heard Lafayette try to stifle a laugh from the bedroom part of the dorm, and he groaned loudly, resting his head on the porcelain tank.

 

After a moment, he was considering standing when his roommate came in from the other room with a glass of water and an advil, tsk-ing disapprovingly.

 

John accepted the things graciously, though the idea of swallowing something at this particular moment was further nauseating.

 

Lafayette, to his credit, waited until John had finished taking a long drink of water before speaking. “What kind of party were you having last night?” His voice was curious, and mildly jealous.

 

John shook his head. “It wasn’t a party, it was just me and… A friend of mine.” Alexander was his friend, right? Although last night was a perfect example of how that title was confusing to John, as he tried to push the thought of Alexander’s hands on his body away.

 

Lafayette perked up an eyebrow. “That so? What kind of friend?”

 

John frowned up at him, as Lafayette leaned back against the counter. “What do you mean what kind of friend? A friend? I don’t know.” He drew his hand to his head, groaning as the pounding returned.

 

Lafayette pursed his lips. “You’re sure?” He sounded really skeptical, and John shook his head.

 

“Yes- why are you being so weird?” He asked, narrowing his eyes up at his friend.

 

Lafayette was smirking, but shrugged. “Just… Take a good look in the mirror before you need to leave for class in…” He checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes?”

 

John’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, what time is it?”

 

“Only nine thirty, just cautionary.” Lafayette stood back up straight. “I’m meeting Thomas for breakfast before my morning class, so I’ll be heading out now.”

 

He started out, but stopped at the door. “Really, though, John. You may want to find yourself a scarf.” And with that, he was gone.

 

John stared after him for a moment, before dry-heaving in the toilet again a few times, and giving a last resigned groan.

 

As he pushed himself up from the floor, he considered what Lafayette had said and, after flushing the toilet, made his way to the bathroom mirror.

 

His breath caught at what he saw.

 

Three distinct, purple swollen marks on his neck.

 

Swallowing nervously, he pulled off the sandy shirt to find more of these marks - _hickeys_ \- down his collarbone, as low as his hips. “That _fucker._ ” He muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “Oh my _God_.”

 

The weight of what had happened last night hit him like a wrecking ball. He staggered, as he thought about what this meant for Alexander. What it meant for Eliza.

 

John clung to the sink for balance, as he considered the connotations of the myriad of marks on his chest and neck and the world seemed to tilt uncertainly around him.

 

He shook his head, and decided he needed a shower before he was ready to go anywhere, so he took one quick and cold.

 

As soon as he got out, feeling slightly better for the experience, he shot Hercules a text.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     9:37am**

**Not to stereotype you or anything, but do you own any scarves? I do not.**

 

The almost immediate response caught John as he made his way to the kitchenette.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     9:37am**

**Boy do I ever.**

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     9:37am**

**Y do u ask?**

 

John pulled a granola bar out of the cabinet above the mini fridge, and set it on the counter as he texted back.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     9:38am**

**Are you busy rn? I can come over and explain before class**

 

He opened the granola bar and forced himself to eat it, grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge to chase it, as his phone buzzed again.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     9:39am**

**Nope. My roommate’s asleep but he’s a pretty deep sleeper so it should be fine.**

 

John pulled a hooded jacket over his tee-shirt as he finished the bar.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     9:39am**

**Sweet. Omw**

 

The hungover student grabbed the water bottle off the counter, pulled the hood up over his head to hopefully hide the many apparent marks on himself, and headed out the door.

 

When he reached Hercules’ apartment, he knocked lightly and Hercules immediately responded something John couldn’t quite make out.

 

A second later, the stocky tailor pulled the door open and gave John an inquisitive look.

 

John came inside quietly, and once safe from prying eyes, he glanced around the room, seeing both beds empty.

 

He gestured with a raised eyebrow, about to open his mouth when Hercules seemed to understand.

 

“My roommate finally woke up. I think he’s hungover though, didn’t say a word just went right for the bathroom.”

 

John nodded. “I can relate.” He admitted, and to Hercules' inquisitive look, he closed his eyes to prepare himself, and slowly pulled his hood down.

 

He heard an audible gasp from Hercules, and opened his eyes to see the older student smirking at him.

 

“John Laurens,” He said in a mock repremansive tone, quietly no doubt so his roommate wouldn’t hear. He shook his head, and John rolled his eyes.

 

“Scarf?” He asked irritably.

 

Hercules chuckled lightheartedly. “Yeah, you need it.”

 

John, already overheating from the jacket, pulled it off and twisted it in his hands as Hercules moved to dig around in a drawer of a dresser in one corner of the room.

 

John heard a groan from the bathroom.

 

“I swear, Herc, I am _never_ drinking again-” The student coming out of the bathroom froze when he saw John, eyes wide. “John?”

 

Alexander Hamilton gaped at him from Hercules’ bathroom doorway.

 

His eyes quickly settled on the marks on John’s neck, and went wider.

 

“Alex? What-” Then it clicked. “ _You’re_ Hercules’ obsessive author roommate.” It seemed so obvious now; the pages and pages of writing.

 

Hercules perked an eyebrow at the two, paused with several garments in his hands. “You two know each other?”

 

Both exploded into explanations of how they knew each other, insisting that they were friends and didn’t know each other all that well, and Hercules shook his head.

 

“Take that as a yes.” He decided, standing straight and making his way back to John where the younger student was gaping at Alexander, who had turned a complimentary shade of vermillion.

 

Hercules glanced between them, his eyes going wide with understanding. “Wait did-?”

 

“No!” And “Definitely not!” Overlapped, cutting Hercules off as both John and Alexander studied the floor.

 

John felt his face heat up, as he drew a hand to the back of his neck.

 

Hercules nodded slowly. “Right. I see.” He walked in front of John and held up to scarves - one that looked crocheted, different shades of green, and one that was lighter fabric, checkered with shades of blue.

 

John reached for the green one - it was more his color - and thanked Hercules quickly before heading off for class, glad to leave the awkward situation quickly.

 

So Alexander was Hercules’ roommate. How had he not known that?

 

_Guy lives and breathes writing._

 

 _My roommate is_ super _sick._

 

The evidence had been there, had John bothered to consider it.

 

He fiddled with the scarf around his neck, desperately hoping it would stay sitting where no one would see the marks as he walked into his classroom.

 

After he found his seat, he was surprised when a pretty young girl with dark hair and eyes moved to sit beside him.

 

Unfortunately, he knew exactly who she was and his stomach churned guiltily.

 

Once seated, she turned to him cheerily. “Hey, it’s John, right? John Laurens?”

 

John blinked, fidgeting with his scarf. “That’s me.” He gave a sheepish smile, not meeting her eyes but rather scanning for the professor.

 

Nevertheless, she persisted, holding out a hand. “Elizabeth Schuyler, I’m Alex’s girlfriend.”

 

 _Alex._ So _she_ called him that.

 

John had last night as well. He nodded, sparing her a quick glance and shaking her hand. “Yeah, uh, it’s nice to officially meet you.” He turned his gaze back to the front of the room, swallowing an audible sigh of relief as the professor walked in, and the lecture began.

 

Eliza seemed to note John’s discomfort, and accepted the change of pace, turning her own attention to the professor.

 

John tried to pay attention to the lesson, but his mind kept drifting back to the girl next to him, and his hands went automatically to tug at the scarf.

 

His stomach churned at the thought of her finding out what had happened last night.

 

That gentle smile and calmly pleasent look on her face wouldn’t last.

 

He tried desperately to keep his mind off of this, but it barely lasted; by the time the lecture was over, John felt like he would suffocate under the weight of her presence.

 

He made a beeline for the door, and managed to make it out of the classroom before he heard her call out after him.

 

John made a mad dash down the hallway and back towards his dorm.

 

In his haste, he turned to check the way behind him and collided full-on with someone much larger than he, and he tumbled onto his rump, his scarf flying off in the process.

 

He scrambled for it, and was halfway through a mumbled apology when he met the eyes of the person he’d collided with, and saw a disdainful look in familiar dark eyes.

 

John’s eyes went wide as he saw Jefferson’s draw a trail from John’s face, to his neck - at which John felt his face heat up - to the scarf, and a realization seemed to dawn on him.

 

John quickly pushed himself to his feet, wrapping the scarf protectively back around his neck and fighting the blush that rose in his cheeks. Jefferson had no right to judge him.

 

“Sorry, Jefferson.” John stated with much less sincerity than he had started.

 

The ginger sneered. “Busy night, Laurens?”

 

“What’s it to you?” The shorter boy returned, irritated at the holdup.

 

He shouldered past the RA, and continued off down the hallway, thoroughly steamed.

 

When he returned to the dorm, he found Lafayette sitting on his bed, surprisingly unoccupied.

 

As soon as John walked in, however, the Frenchman pointed sternly to John’s desk chair.

 

“Sit.” He instructed.

 

Taken aback, and still residually irritated from the encounter he’d just had, John dropped his bag on the floor. “Why?” He asked sharply, not making a move towards the chair.

 

Lafayette raised his eyebrows, but didn’t stop pointing, only used his other hand to gesture to John’s scarf. “We need to talk about last night.”

 

John was irritable enough, he didn’t need Lafayette to press this. So he rolled his eyes, and moved towards the kitchen. “What is there to say?”

 

Lafayette had to stand to follow him, but this didn’t seem to deter the exchange student. “I’ve spoken with Hercules, and he told me about this morning-”

 

John slammed the cabinet he’d been digging around in. “What is there to tell?” He asked slowly, making sure his voice was threatening enough to discourage his friend as well as fixing him with a dangerous look.

 

Lafayette hesitated a moment, and then raised an eyebrow. “Firstly, you know Alexander,” He started slowly, and John went back to pulling out ingredients to make a sandwich.

 

“Um, and he said that when you saw each other, you both sort of… Froze. Blushing.”

 

John dropped the cabinet closed and whirled on his roommate. “That sonds like an exaggeration. Hercules was probably speculating about a situation he had no right to think he understood.” He returned harshly, and went back to spreading mayonnaise on a slice of bread.

 

Lafayette was quiet for a long moment, before speaking up again. “We’re just trying to look out for you, ami. Alexander has a girlfriend, just so you know.”

 

John dropped his shoulders, letting out a sigh. He turned around to face his roommate. “I know. I _knew_ he had a girlfriend and still…” He ran a hand through his hair, not meeting Lafayette’s eyes.

 

His roommate’s expression softened, and he moved towards John to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “These are dangerous waters, amour. You must be careful with your decisions, for here is a situation that could end in a lot of heartbreak.”

 

John nodded towards the floor. When he met Lafayette’s eyes, it was with a playful smirk. “I have to ask what your secret is. I’ve never met someone quite as wise as you.” He pretended to think hard for a moment. “Is it because you’re French?”

 

Lafayette punched him playfully in the arm. “Shut up.” He draped his arm over John’s shoulder. “Now tell me about Alexander. I’ve met him once or twice - he’s in my French class, so I suppose I’ve seen him more than that - but I’ve never really gotten to know him.”

 

John couldn’t fight the blush that rose in his cheeks, as he took his sandwich and the two headed back to the bedroom area.

 

They sat on their respective beds, facing each other, as John tried to find the words to explain Alexander.

 

He decided to start small. “Well, you probably know he likes to write, um…” John shrugged, feeling the same fluttering in his chest always associated with Alexander, and tried to ignore it. “I don’t know, he’s… Guarded. Like, I don’t know. He seems like… He’s going to make the most of the situation he’s in, no matter what. He’s gonna make a name for himself, and he isn’t gonna miss any opportunity to do that, not throwing away his shot.”

 

John felt the lightness in his chest dissipate, as another wave of guilt crashed over him.

 

“Oh God… I met his girlfriend today.” He dropped his head into his hands.

 

Lafayette raised an eyebrow. “Is she cute?”

 

John shook his head. “I can see why he likes her. She’s real sweet and gentle…”

 

Lafayette pressed his lips together. “That’s rough.”

 

John nodded, as he finished off his sandwich. He hadn’t realized how hungry he’d been.

 

After a moment of silence, he shook his head, and looked up to meet Lafayette’s eyes. “I don’t know what to do about this.” He admitted quietly.

 

Lafayette looked sympathetic, and shook his head as well. “There is nothing for you to do, ami. Alexander has to sort this out. This is his fight, not yours. The most you can do is not let it happen again.” He quirked up an eyebrow, as if to ask if it _would_ happen again.

 

“Right.” John swallowed. “Right- of course, I wouldn’t…” It was just yesterday that he’d assured Martha that he would never let anything happen between himself and Alexander, as long as his friend was in a relationship.

 

 _Martha_.

 

He pulled out his phone, to see he hadn’t imagined it; he’d missed a call from her last night.

 

“I need to call my sister, um, I’ll be back.” He stepped out of the room and dialed Martha’s contact.

 

One ring.

 

Two.

 

Three.

 

 _Click_.

 

“ _Hey, Johnny! What’s up?”_

 

“Hey, you called late last night?”

 

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, and then an excited, “ _Oh! Right - I ran into that Alexander’s girlfriend, Eliza!_ ” John’s heart sank. “ _We got to talking, and ended up exchanging numbers. Her and I are going out for lunch with her sisters. I figured, if you and that Peggy are still friends, you could tag along and it’d be like a sibling date._ ”

 

John hesitated.

 

“ _Johnny?_ ”

 

He pressed his lips together. “Martha I-I-I don’t think I can do that.” He cursed himself for the way his stomach twisted.

 

Martha was quiet a moment, before saying slowly and skeptically, “ _Why not?_ ”

 

When no immediate answer came, her voice raised and she sounded slightly more frepremansive. “ _John, what did you do?_ ”

 

“I- nothing!” He lied defensively. “W-it just-” He racked his brain for a suitable excuse. “When? When are you going out?”

 

Matha hesitated, and John thought she might press, but instead she just sighed. “ _In, like, an hour._ ”

 

 _Drat._ Martha knew John didn’t have any other classes that day, because he’d told her Monday when she’d asked about the dress.

 

“Um… I-I’ll have to check my schedule-”

 

Martha sighed loudly. “ _If you don’t want to come that’s fine, I just thought… I don’t know. I don’t know what I thought._ ” Her voice was even, but devoid of affection. “ _Just let me know far enough ahead that I can pick you up._ ” With that, she hung up.

 

“Wh-” John glared at his phone. He gave an irritated grunt, and turned back towards his dorm.

 

When he walked inside, Lafayette nodded to him from where he sat on his bed, but didn’t stand.

 

John ground his teeth, taking to pacing back and forth across the small space.

 

It was only a few minutes before he was resigned to go to the lunch - after all, what could go wrong? - and shot Martha a text letting her know, before pulling out his jacket.

 

It may have been too hot in the dorm buildings and within the actual school to wear it, but outside against the chilly weather he could get away with it.

 

Just for good measure, he wore the scarf too.

  


When Martha pulled up in front of the building to pick him up, John didn’t say a word as he got into the car.

 

They pulled out of the drive as he tugged at the scarf around his neck uncertainly. Why did Alex have to be so damn obvious?

 

The silence didn’t last though, as Martha gestured to his getup. “What’s with the layers? It isn’t really that cold.”

 

Being outside, John was beginning to realize she was right; he was starting to sweat.

 

Wordlessly, he removed his jacket and then unwrapped the scarf, clearing his throat to get her attention.

 

She glanced at him, and her eyes went wide as they returned to the road. “Oh God, John it wasn’t-?” She didn’t finish, though she didn’t need to.

 

John’s silence was enough of an answer for her, and she shook her head.

 

“ _Fucking_ idiot.” She scolded.

 

“Hey!” John objected, wrapping the scarf back around his neck.

 

“No really - you’re a _fucking idiot._ ” She assured him, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

 

The two let that comment hang in the air for the rest of the drive, until they pulled up to the restaurant, when Martha fixed John with a steely gaze.

 

“Listen, whatever happens in there, you can _not_ let Eliza find out what happened from you. That will _kill_ her. This has to come from Alex. And…” Her gaze turned slightly more sympathetic. “Don’t fall for him, Johnny.”

 

With that, she climbed out of the car, leaving John to consider those words bitterly only a moment before he followed her.

 

Before they reached the door, Martha hesitated again, turning to John with her brow furrowed.

 

She adjusted his scarf, and then shook her head and headed inside.

 

Immediately, Peggy’s voice caught John’s attention.

 

“John!” She jumped up from a booth where she sat with Eliza and a taller, darker girl who John assumed was Angelica to run at him.

 

“Hey, Peggy.” He gave her a gentle hug.

 

John allowed Peggy to drag him back to the table, Martha trailing behind as she offered polite greetings to the sisters.

 

Once seated, John extended a hand across the table to Angelica. “I don’t think we’ve met before. Angelica, right?” He flashed her a charming smile. “John Laurens.”

 

She narrowed her eyes slightly, but smiled softly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” She commented, casting a quick but meaningful look to her sisters.

 

John raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two younger Schuylers. “That so?”

 

Angelica nodded knowingly. “From Alexander, as well. We’re all very close.”

 

John had to fight a blush at the sound of the name.

 

His hand absently went to his scarf, though he was saved from having to respond when the waiter approached to take their order.

 

After everyone had ordered and they thanked the waiter appreciatively, John decided to shift the subject slightly enough to take it off of himself. “So if you’re all close, Peggy, what’s Alexander’s superpower?”

 

Peggy’s cheeks tinted pink, as she looked down at the mention of the inside joke.

 

When she looked back up, she had a thoughtful look on her face though. “Hmm… I think persistence.” She cracked a smile. “He does _not_ give up. If he wants something, he goes and gets it, no matter who or what is in the way.”

 

Eliza and Angelica were nodding thoughtfully, and the group was relaxing a bit.

 

“I’m excited to get to know you,” Eliza said to John considering him with a gentle expression. “I’ve heard tons about you from Alexander.”

 

John again tried to fight the blush he felt rising in his cheeks. Alexander talked about him?

 

“Wh- like what?” He asked, trying to sound casual.

 

She shrugged. “You’re an artist, right? But don’t tend to show your art to people you don’t know all that well.”

 

John felt his face heat up now. He’s only drawn in front of Alexander on the first occasion they’d officially met, and talked about his art little enough that to hear Alex remembered, let alone considered it to be relevant enough to share, was surprising.

 

“I’ve heard some about you, too.” He admitted, considering her with a gentle smile, guilt churning in his chest as he tried to hide his flush cheeks by taking a drink of water.

 

Eliza perked up an eyebrow at this, not bothering to conceal the pink that reached her cheeks. “Oh?”

 

Angelica propped her head up on one fist, leaning in. “What _does_ our dear Alexander have to say about her?” Her voice was even, her expression dangerously unreadable.

 

John swallowed his water thickly, “Oh, you know… He talks you up a lot, talks about how beautiful you are, that type of stuff.”

 

Now Eliza’s blush deepened, and she looked away, face red but smiling nonetheless.

 

“So you guys are from the city?” Thank God for Martha. “Is your whole family here?”

 

Angelica nodded. “The three of us have an apartment together, but Peggy mostly stays at her dorm, at least during the week and since both of us are working, and Eliza is still in school, we don’t get sick of each other too fast.”

 

Eliza nodded, adding, “One of our brothers has an apartment downtown too, and our dad and youngest brother have a house just outside the city.”

 

John raised his eyebrows. “You have brothers?”

 

Eliza nodded. “Two, Phillip and John.” She cast John a sly look. “That’s why it was easy to remember your name, the first time we met.”

 

He nodded, avoiding her eyes as much as possible because every time he met them, he was washed over with guilt.

 

“Which is older - Phillip or John?” Martha asked.

 

“Phillip; he’s twenty-six. Older than all of us.” Peggy answered cheerily. 

 

John raised an eyebrow at the nickname, but said nothing.

 

“What about you guys? How many siblings do you have?” Angelica asked kindly.

 

“Oh! I know! I know! Can I answer?” Peggy was looking between Martha and John excitedly, and John couldn’t help crack a smile.

 

“Yeah, go for it Pegs.” He laughed as she closed her eyes and drew her hands to her temples.

 

“You have one sister older than Martha,” She said slowly. “And one younger sister, and another younger brother.” She opened her eyes. “Right?”

 

John nodded, smiling. She’d remembered.

 

Martha looked impressed, nodding as well. “That’s exactly right.”

 

“And are you guys close?” Eliza asked, and John dropped his gaze.

 

There was a moment of awkward silence, as John and Martha both considered how to answer, before they were saved by the waiter returning with their food.

 

There were a few minutes of shuffling around plates and drinks, and then John and Martha thanked the waiter and he was on his way.

 

The group dug into their food, except for John who was finding it hard to have an appetite and only pushed his around on the plate, and it wasn’t until a few minutes later that Eliza spoke up again.

 

“You never answered my question,” She pointed out, obviously not having taken the hint.

 

Angelica, on the other hand, was more quick on the uptake, and laid a gentle hand on Eliza’s arm warningly.

 

Eliza frowned, and then looked back down at her food. “I guess that’s none of my business, I just wondered-”

 

“No, it’s alright.” Martha assured her, smiling tightly which caught John off guard. “We have a… More or less, a complicated family history.” She didn’t delve right into it, and the Schuylers didn’t press, all nodding understandingly.

 

Eliza gave John a sad look. “Alexander doesn’t talk about his family at all.” She pondered absently.

 

John felt a sharp pang of guilt, thinking about how Alexander had told him about his past.

 

Told _him_.

 

But not Eliza.

 

He felt a gross sort of satisfaction at the thought that Alexander had confided in _him_ before his girlfriend, and quickly pushed it away.

 

He couldn’t think like that.

 

His stomach churned as he pushed the food around on his plate, absently toying with the scarf around his neck.

 

Pretty soon, shallow, easy conversation fell into rhythm within the group, and John had a feeling he’d be seeing a lot more of the Schuylers.

 

He found out during this time that Angelica had graduated NYU with a degree in debate, that Eliza was still there studying psychology, and Peggy was studying art.

 

John had never considered that one could major in art, and decided to log that information away for later.

 

John spent the rest of the lunch avoiding Eliza’s eyes, and trying not to think about the night before as he tugged at the scarf around his neck.

 

When it came time and they had all said their polite goodbye’s - John hugged Peggy and, upon her inclination, promised to text her - him and Martha made their way back to her car.

 

John was grateful for the clearing skies, and wondered if it was some sort of metaphor.

 

He glanced over in the car and saw Martha chewing her lip, her brow set as if in deep thought.

 

“What’s up?” He asked her compassionately.

 

His sister seemed jarred from her thoughts, and turned to consider him a moment.

 

Then she shook her head, turning her gaze back to the road. “I’m getting married, Johnny.” She said it so quietly, John wasn’t sure she believed it. “Less than two weeks.” She nodded slowly.

 

John couldn’t help but smile. “I know. And you know what? It’s gonna be fantastic.”

 

She gave him a look. “I don’t know. We’re sort of… Scrambling.”

 

John shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t matter how complete the decorations are, or how perfect the ceremony is, because what matters is you and Davina, and how you feel about each other.” The young student was surprised by himself; maybe he’d been spending too much time with Peggy.

 

Martha was quiet a long moment, then nodded ever so slightly.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” They pulled up in front of the college. “Okay, well, this is the last time I should be in the city for a while, I uh… I’m leaving later today.”

 

John nodded, smiling up at her.

  


He leaned across the center console of the car to give her a tight hug.

 

“I’ll see you at the wedding, McFly.” He uttered affectionately.

 

Martha let out a small laugh. “See you there, Johnny.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek before he climbed out of the vehicle.

 

Before he closed the door though, John hesitated. “Hey, Martha?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Why, uh… Why isn’t Frances coming? To the wedding, I mean?” He hadn’t seen his oldest sister in years, though as far as he knew the two had been on good terms.

 

Martha’s face fell slightly when he asked the question. “That’s, um… It’s sorta complicated.” She licked her lips slowly. “She’s not… In a good place right now.”

 

When she met John’s eyes, he saw that hers were shining.

 

“I don’t wanna get into it, but we don’t, uh… Really talk, these days.”

 

John was surprised to hear that, and cocked his head slightly. “What happened?”

 

Martha shook her head, turning her gaze forward. “Just… You know how it is.”

 

John wanted to protest that no, he didn’t know how it was but Martha’s tone was dangerously close to crying and he didn’t want to push that. “I guess.” He accepted reluctantly.

 

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Love you Johnny. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

 

He nodded, returning the smile. “Love you too, Marty.” And he closed the door, waving as she drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting some secrets on the Schuylers, getting some tea within the Laurens family, we just hearin all the juicy stuff! Getting to the GOOD PART y'all the wedding is TWO WEEKS OUT and who knows what's gonna go down! 
> 
> Leave me a comment if you're HYPED like I am!


	14. And Peggy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Peggy have some interesting bonding, and Lafayette is acting strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy! It's been a minute!
> 
> I'm having a good time. Are y'all having a good time?
> 
> We might have to put a pause on all this good-time-having, seeing as school's started and I just got a job and auditions are in two weeks and my life is about to become h e l l
> 
> But for now, it's a good time.

That lunch had given him plenty to think about, and as he didn’t have any more classes for the rest of the day, he headed back to his dorm.

 

When he walked in, Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson were sitting together on Lafayette’s bed.

 

John frowned, and gave a small wave to them both as they looked up when he walked in, hoping to be civil at least with the RA.

 

He set his bag down at his desk, before the silence of the room reached him, and he turned to face his roommate and the other student. “Am I interrupting something?”

 

Lafayette’s face was red, and he was avoiding John’s eyes. That was weird.

 

Thomas, on the other hand gave him a small smile. That was weirder. “This is your dorm too, John.” Was the only answer he got.

 

This solidified in John’s mind that he was  _ definitely _ interrupting something.

 

“Right.” He grabbed his bag with his sketchbook, and started back towards the door. “Sorry.” He muttered as the door swung shut behind him.

 

Alone with his thoughts, John quickly decided that it wasn’t an ideal state to be in.

 

He shot a text to Peggy.

 

**To: Peggy Schuyler     12:32pm**

**Hey, it’s John. Lunch was great! I was glad to meet your famous sisters I’d heard so much about**

 

John felt a pang as he thought about his own sisters, back in South Carolina.

 

These last few weeks with Martha had done nothing to appease the longing he sometimes had for the easy relationship he’d had with his sisters.

 

If anything, it just made him miss them more.

 

He headed down to the library, a new-ish sketchbook (one he’d purchased with the purpose of using it at college) in his hands and his mind heavy.

 

Before he’d made it far, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

**From: Peggy Schuyler     12:33pm**

**Hey! I’m glad you had fun XD They are pretty rad**

 

John smiled down at his phone.

 

**To: Peggy Schuyler     12:33pm**

**So I didn’t wanna harp on it during lunch, but you’re an art major? That’s super cool. Ever show anyone your art?**

 

John wondered if knowing she had a clear perspective might make it easier for him to share his own art.

 

Not that he necessarily had trouble sharing it, only that there had been few people in the past whom he’d trusted enough and who’d been interested enough to see his art.

 

And by few, he meant it really had only ever been his sisters, and not everything he drew.

 

Only the good, non-controversial cutesy art which was totally finished did even they get to see.

 

He was reserved, not insecure.

 

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

 

His phone buzzed again.

 

**From: Peggy Schuyler     12:34pm**

**Thanks! And hells yeah! My sisters are my biggest fans, besides maybe my dad.**

 

**From: Peggy Schuyler     12:34pm**

**Why do you ask?**

 

John was drawing near the library when he stopped to text her back.

 

**To: Peggy Schuyler     12:34pm**

**Just wondering.**

 

He considered leaving it at that - it wasn’t like she’d asked, so why should he need to tell her? - but decided to just go for it.

 

**To: Peggy Schuyler     12:35pm**

**I sketch sometimes, always looking for a fresh set of eyes and some solid constructive criticism**

 

Just to be coy, he continued.

 

**To: Peggy Schuyler     12:35pm**

**Especially the experienced eyes of an art major**

 

Satisfied, he continued into the library.

 

He was mildly surprised to see Peggy at her usual spot behind the counter, smiling at her phone with wide eyes.

 

Before she could text back, she glanced up to see John standing there and her face lit up. 

 

“John!” She came out from behind the counter and trotted up to him, punching him in the arm when she reached him. “You never told me you were an artist!” 

 

John felt his face heat up, and started to try to form some downplaying response when Peggy’s eyes trailed to his sketchbook and she began to bounce slightly.

 

“Is that a sketchbook with you right now?”  _ Rats. _ Peggy’s expression turned smug. “I could be that professional, fresh set of eyes you were looking for.”

 

John drew a hand to the back of his neck. “I- I don’t know, I meant sorta  _ sometime _ , I didn’t really think that time would come so fast-” He laughed nervously, but Peggy’s expression was still hopeful.

 

“Come on, you know I won’t judge.” She punched him in the arm playfully. Then a thought seemed to cross her mind. “Wait- come with me.” She took his hand and pulled him back to her counter, where she flushed a bit. “Now, I’ll make you a deal; I’ll show you mine, you show me yours.” She extended a hand. “Deal?”

 

John hesitated. He really had shown very few people his art. It wasn’t because he was ashamed of it, or because he didn’t think it was good - he considered himself a moderately talented artist, he felt he’d worked hard enough to deserve that - but something else.

 

It was just so… Personal.

 

He shrugged. “Okay, fine. Deal.” He shook her hand.

 

Peggy let out a little squeal before beginning to thumb through what looked like a sketchbook. 

 

“Now keep in mind - these are just my doodles from while I’m here, so nothing special…” She pushed the book towards him with a nervous look in her eye.

 

John took the book gingerly, and began to examine the sketches inside.

 

The first page he saw had several loosely lined sketches of girls faces, and it only took John a moment to realize they were her sisters.

 

He turned to the next page. There was a full body shot of a man, standing proudly with a gentle look on his face.

 

The next page was the same man crouching to hand a flower to a young girl.

 

The next page depicted a woman, with sharp eyes and a mischievous look on her face.

 

There were several more sketches of this woman, with plaited dark hair and gentle, elegant features.

 

There were a few of her and the man together, and some of the two of them with the girls, and John was nearing the middle of the book when he came to the first sketches of the library.

 

There were dozens of rough sketches of the library from her angle.

 

Of people studying, sitting with their friends, reading, writing, drawing.

 

Then he came to one that really caught his attention.

 

It caught his eye firstly because he was one of the subjects.

 

Sure as a Phoenix sunrise, John Laurens, with his hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, his nose scrunched up in concentration, his sketchpad on his knees and a sly look in his eye sat with his knees up on one end of a loveseat.

 

It caught his eye secondly because the other subject was Alexander Hamilton.

 

He sat on the other end of the love seat, frowning at John with an intense sort of curiosity.

 

John shivered.

 

He’d seen that look in real life.

 

He remembered the day she must have sketched this; it was the first time he and Alexander really talked, and John had sketched Alexander to come out of his art block.

 

God, to go back to when it was as simple as that.

 

John must have hesitated on that drawing a moment too long, because Peggy spoke up. 

 

“I’m not like, a stalker or anything, I just draw people who are in the library.” Her voice had a nervous edge to it, and John drew his gaze from the paper to meet her eyes.

 

“Peggy… These are amazing. I can’t even begin…” He looked back down at the drawing of himself and Alexander.

 

So much was said in just this one drawing, which John didn’t have the guts to say it to himself.

 

John wasn’t sure how long he examined the picture before clearing his throat and moving to push the sketchpad back towards Peggy.

 

“That’s… Wow.” He looked at her sincerely. “Amazing.” He repeated.

 

She blushed, and then gave him a curious look.

 

She seemed to consider him a moment, before making up her mind.

 

She grabbed the paper where it was perforated, and began to tear out the page.

 

Once it was removed, she offered it to John, a soft smile on her face.

 

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I don’t- I didn’t- I couldn’t-”

 

Peggy cut him off with a laugh. “Don’t sweat it. It’s just a doodle, so if you like it,” She shrugged, extending it to him again. “It’s yours.”

 

John hesitated, then accepted the drawing. 

 

He gave Peggy a sincere smile. “Thank you. And you’ve earned your right to peruse…” He lifted his sketchbook above the counter.

 

Peggy looked like she might burst with anticipation.

 

John hesitated. “Um, a word of warning though, I don’t… I don’t necessarily know exactly what’s in this. To be really honest, I uh, don’t always pay a whole lot of attention when I’m sketching and sometimes… I get carried away.” He pressed his lips together, and began to lower the sketchbook, but placed a hand on top of it when it was down. “And I've never really, like showed these to… well, anyone.”

 

He blushed when Peggy’s eyes widened, and withdrew his hand.

 

She gave him a reassuring look, and then opened the book.

 

Right off the bat, John wished he'd gone through the sketchbook beforehand.

 

The first drawing was a sketched out portrait, with the beginnings of shading, of Alexander. 

 

The next page was anatomical practice (Peggy would understand that drawing multiple clothesless figures was sometimes necessary practice).

 

The next page - John cursed himself inwardly - was another drawing of Alexander, a profile shot he'd done absently of his friend gazing at the sky, the constellations reflecting in his eyes.

 

The next drawing was based on a family photo; it pictured Johns parents, and adolescent Frances, Martha, John, Mary and toddler Hank all close together and smiling.

 

Back when they were one, big, happy family.

 

Peggy smiled up at him. “These are your sisters?” she asked.

 

John nodded, looking down at the drawing.

 

Peggy pointed to one. “Martha?” she guessed.

 

John nodded again, and continued to do so as she pointed at the different Laurens siblings and correctly guessed who they were.

 

Then she gestured to his parents. “And your parents? Your younger siblings still live with them in South Carolina?”

 

John swallowed, trying to keep his expression painless as he gestured to the drawing. “Actually Mary is moved out, um, only little Hank is still at home.”

 

It was quiet for a moment, before the sound of paper rustling as Peggy turned the page.

 

There was a drawing of Martha, in her wedding dress, looking excitable with Hercules laughing on the side.

 

She flipped through countless more sketches and drawings, before coming to one that made John’s breath catch in his throat.

 

It was a pretty simple drawing - the beach at night, featuring the waves, the sand, the vast starlit sky - it was one of the few drawings in the book John had bothered coloring - the only thing that stood out about it was the silhouette.

 

There was a silhouette, in the shallows of the beach, of two boys facing each other, standing close enough that the shorter was looking up into the taller’s eyes, his hands around the boys waist.

 

John tried to flip to the next page. “Oh I'm sure you don't care to see-” but Peggy was holding the book open, looking at the page with wide eyes.

 

She looked closer at the silhouette, frowning slightly. 

 

John prayed she wouldn't recognize the dark figures in the moonlit landscape.

 

He was sure she’d been around both boys pictured often enough to, if the thought occurred to her at least.

 

She looked at the drawing for an unsettling amount of time, quietly considering it.

 

John tugged at the scarf around his neck, looking around the room uncertainly.

 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she looked up at him with a sad look in her eyes. “John…” she shook her head, and the looked back down and flipped the page.

 

She moved on.

 

John waited for her to say something, to indicate she understood or didn't understand.

 

But she didn't. Simply kept flipping through the book.

 

The next picture she stopped on was another of Alexander (had John really drawn that many?).

 

This was more of a doodle than a real polished drawing, and it showed Alexander sitting on John’s bed, a pillow under his elbows, eating chicken noodle soup.

 

He looked sick, and in the drawing he was looking out towards where John’s laptop had been (although he doubted Peggy knew that) with an air of entrancement about him.

 

Peggy paused on the drawing, and then gave John another weird, sad look before closing the sketchbook and pushing it back towards John.

 

When he moved to take it, she took his hand. “John don’t… Don’t let anything - family, your friends, your enemies- well, assuming you have enemies -don’t let  _ anything _ stop you from being who you are, or doing what you want.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, smiling affectionately. “It’s  _ your _ life, and anything you love is worth fighting for.”

 

John frowned, “Uhm, yeah. Of- of course, Pegs. Wh- can I ask, why the sudden sincerity?” He heard the note of anxiety in his voice, and cleared his throat dismissively at it.

 

Peggy just smiled, and then released his hand to pat the sketchbook. “Thank you for showing me this. It means the world. And you’ve got some real talent.” She gave him a sly smile. “I mean, I guess you had to be good at  _ something _ to indicate you have real interests. Besides school, I mean.”

 

John raised his eyebrows, as he pulled the sketchbook back and tucked it under is arm. “Wow, Schuyler, that one stings. And I have interests.” 

 

Peggy raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you do.” She said suggestively.

 

John frowned, and leaned forward to put his elbows on the counter. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

 

She shrugged innocently. “You said you have interests, I was just agreeing with you.” She placed her own elbows on the other side of the counter. “Unless you  _ think _ I meant something specific, in which case I’d  _ love _ to hear what.”

 

John blinked. “I… What?”

 

Peggy just looked up at him expectantly.

 

When it became clear John wasn’t going to give whatever answer Peggy wanted (he was honestly confused as hell by the whole thing), she dropped her gaze slightly. 

 

“Well, if you give me an example of another interest - say, a  _ person _ you were interested  _ in _ \- then maybe I’d believe you more easily.” She said smugly, an expectant glimmer in her eye.

 

John narrowed his eyes. “This is just your excessively complicated way of asking me who my campus crush is, isn’t it?”

 

Peggy pressed her lips together, a look on her face that John wasn’t quite sure the meaning of.

 

“Assuming I didn’t already know.” She said in a strange voice.

 

John swallowed, thinking about the beach drawing.

 

He bit his lip, considering how to word what he wanted to say next. “Assuming you  _ did _ ,” He began in a measured tone. “And that  _ person _ happened to be in a happy, normal relationship with someone you knew, how would that affect the standing we have right now?” His voice was quiet and calm, hopefully masking the panic rising in his chest.

 

Peggy considered him for a moment. “Well, if that were the case,” She began in the same even voice. “I wouldn’t have to tell you what you already know. Wouldn’t have to point out that relationship, or the dangers of harboring feelings for someone in one.” She gave him a pointed look.

 

John studied her carefully. It was easy enough to believe she’d figured it out - between the many drawings of Alexander himself and the beach drawing - what wasn’t too hard to figure out.

 

The part that did confuse him was the way she was talking to him. She wasn’t upset, didn’t even call him on it. She was just quietly pointing out the instability of the situation.

 

Peggy smiled softly. “Don’t you?” She prompted.

 

John looked away, before giving a slight nod. “Yeah.” He agreed quietly.

 

Peggy nodded. “Good.” She stood up straight. “So, um, this weekend, my brother is having a kickback at his place in Angelica. It’s not gonna be a huge thing, but it’ll be a good time. All of us will be there-” ‘us’ John assumed meant the sisters. “-and you can totally ride with me if you wanna come. I’ll be there early to set up, so you’d have to be ready around like… Five on Friday, but I think you’d have a lot of fun.”

 

John licked his lips. “That-that’s real sweet to invite me, Pegs, but uh… I don’t know, I’m not really a party guy-”

 

Peggy interrupted him with a fake snore. Then she punched him in the arm playfully when he gave her a look. “Come _ on! _ It’s college, John. For God’s sake, live it up a bit!” Then she gave him a mischievous smirk. “And it’d be a good place to  _ meet people _ .” 

 

John laughed uncertainly, drawing a hand to the back of his neck. “I-I don’t know…”

 

She made a mock pouty face, and John rolled his eyes.

 

“Okay, fine. Is there gonna be drinking though?”

 

Peggy snorted out a laugh. “No, John, at a  _ college party _ in  _ New York City _ on a  _ weekend _ -”

 

“Okay, okay.” He laughed. “I was just wondering because I wanted to know if there would be a designated driver? For your group, I mean.”

 

She scrunched up her nose. “Aww, that’s sweet. But yes,” She gestured to herself. “I’m only eighteen, so…” She shrugged.

 

John gave a small smile. “Me too, actually.” He admitted.

 

Peggy quirked up an eyebrow. “Don’t let my sisters hear that, or you won’t be drinking at the party either.”

 

John laughed. “You bet.” 

 

Peggy considered him, a fond look in her eyes. “You know that awkward date we went on?”

 

John felt his face heat up. “It wasn’t  _ that _ awkward,” He defended, to which Peggy gave him a look, and John relented. “Okay, it was pretty bad.”

 

She laughed. “Right, but that’s not my point.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice slightly. “You could’ve just told me you were gay though.”

 

John felt his breath catch. “I’m not-”

 

One look from Peggy was enough to kill the words in his throat.

 

He looked down.

 

“Hey,” She smacked his arm hard. 

 

“Ow! What-?” John looked back up to see her giving him a repremansive look.

 

“None of that. Don’t even think like that.” Her expression was stern. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

“I’m not.” John said immediately. “I know. I…”

 

Peggy shoved him encouragingly. “Good. Own it.” Her expression had eased up again, a playful look in her eyes. “I’m sure there will be some cute guys at the kickback that’ll appreciate it.” She said the last two words in a sing-song voice, and then raised her eyebrow suggestively.

 

John couldn’t help but laugh, punching her gently in the arm. “Shut  _ up _ . You’re so back and forth.” His head was reeling with the many changes of tone over the last few minutes, and he wasn’t sure how to feel.

 

Peggy shrugged. “Keeping a light attitude makes the heavy stuff easier.” She said cheerily. Then she glanced to the clock, made a sour face, and began to gather up the papers before her. “I’m sure you came here for a reason, and I do wish you luck, but my shift is over, and I have to get to class.”

 

John frowned, glancing at his phone, to see it was nearly one in the afternoon. “Oh, wow…” He muttered, not having realized how long they’d been talking. “Yeah, I guess you’d better go.”

 

Peggy collected up the rest of her things and gave John a last smile before turning to leave. 

 

“See you in class!” John called after her.

 

She waved over her shoulder.

 

Once she was gone, John continued to the loveseat where he normally sat and set his sketchbook - open to a clean page - on his lap.

 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see several missed texts.

 

**From: Lafayette     12:43pm**

**I’m sorry aha**

 

**From: Lafayette     12:44pm**

**We really got to talking and I forgot to text you**

 

**From: Lafayette     12:49pm**

**You can come back if you want**

 

**From: Lafayette     12:52pm**

**Thomas even offered to leave is where it’s at**

 

John sighed, before typing his response.

 

**To: Lafayette     12:56pm**

**He doesn’t have to leave, I’m on my way.**

 

He packed his sketchbook back into his bag and started back towards the dorms.

  
  


When John walked into the dorm, the two boys were still sitting on Lafayette’s bed.

 

Both looked up when he walked in, and Thomas gave a tight smile. John noticed that Lafayette’s eyes were red, as if he’d been crying, and frowned slightly.

 

After a quick glance between the two, he asked as casually as he could manage, “You alright?”

 

Lafayette nodded quickly. “Of course. I was just helping Thomas with his French.”

 

John narrowed his eyes, but didn’t press the subject. Instead, he gave a small nod and smile to Thomas, and settled into his desk.

 

Thomas said something to Lafayette in French, and the other boy quickly responded.

 

As they fell into conversation in rapid fire French - John didn’t see how Thomas really needed help, he seemed to speak the language perfectly already - the youngest of the three plugged his headphones in, started his music and pulled his sketchbook back out.

  
  


John wasn’t sure exactly when Thomas left, but when he looked up from his sketchbook some time later, the RA was gone.

 

Lafayette was staring blankly at the floor, an odd expression on his face.

 

John pulled his earbuds out. 

 

“Okay,” The sudden sound seemed to startle the older boy. “Spill. What’s wrong?”

 

Lafayette smiled, frowning as if he were confused. It was an odd combination. “Nothing. Why- why would something be wrong?”

 

John crossed his arms. 

 

Lafayette just shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say, amie.” He turned away, pulling his laptop from under the bed. “I really am fine. Thomas came over to practice his french, and that was that. Now, I have homework.”

 

Lafayette turned his attention to his computer, and John got the message not to push the subject any further.

 

Instead he turned to the half complete sketch of his roommate, and went back to work.

  
  


The next few days went by quicker than John expected, and before he knew it, it was Friday and he was getting ready for the party.

 

Peggy had been texting him all day, as well as the two chatting about it in the library. She seemed really excited for him to be there, and when the clock struck five, he walked outside of the dorm building where she was waiting to pick him up.

 

She smiled brightly at him when he got in, scarf wrapped carefully around his neck to conceal what remained of the dark marks. “Ready to experience what college is about?” 

 

John rolled his eyes. “Sure, Schuyler. Bring it on.”

 

And the two were off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah here's my little version of the beach drawing.
> 
> I'm not as good of an artist as I imagine John to be,,, but it's something I really wanted a visual for XD
> 
> <http://missprinceofpastel.tumblr.com/post/176607506930/i-actually-drew-this-for-a-fanfiction-im-writing>


	15. The Party: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets to know the feeling of a true, college experience.
> 
> And has some... Interesting new experiences along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! I literally have been so busy with school and work that I really... Haven't had time. The next chapter is also giving me a really hard time writing it, so that could be even longer... So... Sorry?
> 
> I had to divide the party into two chapters, so that's why this is part one. It just... Went on for a while.
> 
> The real Time is in the next chapter, so hang onto your butts!
> 
> Also content warning/trigger warning for alcohol consumption/drug use.
> 
> :EDIT: 9/5/18  
> It's been almost a whole month,, so I figured you guys deserved to hear from me
> 
> Sorry it isn't an update, I just wanted to let y'all know it's in the works! I haven't abandoned this work! I'm just cripplingly busy since school started in JULY because Arizona HATES US and wants us all to get HEAT STROKE but that's beside the point, so being that I'm working on it! 
> 
> I might give you another part of the party as an update because I'm really stuck on writing this so... sorry.
> 
> But whatever happens!! I'll try to get it done before the end of the month,,, but circumstances being what they are I can't make any promises.... Love y'all! Thank you all for being so patient with my mess of a self ^^'

When they pulled up into the small neighborhood that harbored their destination, the tightly packed suburbs transitioned into respectably distanced ranch-style homes, until they came to one at the end of a large cul de sac with it’s back to the waterfront.

 

“Wow, Peggy, this is…” It wasn’t a particularly nice neighborhood, but the houses were appropriately spaced out and her brothers had a good sized yard.

 

“I know, uppity, ain’t it?” She joked, as she went around the back to unpack the trunk.

 

John followed and helped her carry a few bags of stuff she’d brought for the party inside.

 

The front door to the house was open, leaving only a screen one that creaked lazily when John swung it open.

 

Peggy’s brother’s immediately appeared, offering to take the bags from the two students.

 

After all the bags were set down on the counter, the taller of the two turned and extended a hand to John. “John Laurens, right? Phillip Schuyler Jr.”

 

John shook his hand graciously, and then turned to the other brother, who extended his hand as well. “Jonathan Schuyler.” John smiled as he shook the younger of the two’s hand.

 

“Nice to meet you both - this a beautiful property you’ve got out here.” He commented.

 

Phillip smiled. “Thanks,” He pointed to his brother. “He wanted an apartment on the East side, but I wanted to be by the shore.”

 

Jonathan shrugged. “I still think you’d be fine on the East side. And I wouldn’t have half the commute to work.” He pointed out.

 

“Yeah, and what would I possibly be able to do for income out there? In an apartment? Besides, you don’t even  _ live _ here.”

 

John could sense the argument was one that had been had before, and would easily be rehashed, and decided to try and steer away from the subject. “What is it you do here?” He asked.

 

Phillip smiled. “I breed animals.”

 

John frowned. “What kinds?” He hadn’t seen any sign of livestock in the yard, although he supposed he hadn’t really seen the back.

 

Phillip’s smile only widened. “Wanna see?”

 

Peggy put a warning hand on John’s shoulder. “Careful what you wish for.”

 

John shrugged. “Sure.”

 

Phillip led him down the hallway to a room dully illuminated with red and yellow lights.

 

He flicked on the overhead light and John saw rows of glass terrariums.

 

“Exotics.” Phillip gestured John over to a large glass tank near the entrance to the room, and the young student was surprised by what he saw in there.

 

Four spiny, sand colored, spiky-headed lizards sat amongst wooden branches and what looked like a small, stone cave all floored with moss within the glass enclosure.

 

“Whoa…” John muttered. Two of the lizards were over a foot and a half long, nose to tail, and the other two were each about a foot.

 

John looked at them closer. 

 

He was saved from having to ask what they were - spared the embarrassment of looking uneducated - when Phillip spoke up from behind him. “These are my beardies, Stan, Carmichael, Sonny and Cher.” He pointed at each one respectively, then moved to the next cage.

 

In it were two small, brightly colored snakes. One was dark red and light pink striped, the other dark grey and pale yellow. “Corn snakes, Bonnie and Clyde.”

 

He pointed to the one above it, which contained multiple small, translucent lizards with big heads and fat tails. “Leopard geckos - they don’t all have names ‘cause they sell super fast so we try not to get too attached.”

 

The next tank; one snake, coiled in a small cave, about as thick - from what John could tell - as a tennis ball. “My ball python, Hurricane - he’s young, so he won’t be bred for at least two more years.”

 

The one below it; a habitat that looked like it was meant to replicate a jungle area revealed no animals to John at first, and Phillip seemed to be inspecting it closely, looking for something.

 

Then John spotted it. “Oh - there he is.” Towards the back of the cage, the guest had spotted a dark blue frog.

 

Phillip grinned. “That’s Billy, like Billy Cranston.” He didn’t miss a beat when John didn’t respond to the reference, instead just continued talking. “There should be four more in here, though they like to hide. We have a pink one named Amy Jo, a green one named Tommy, a yellow one named Trini, and a red one named Jason Lee.”

 

John nodded, feeling his cheeks heat up at the reference he’d obviously missed.

 

“Phil, I think you lost the poor kid. It’s okay Laurens, not everyone is a meganerd like these guys.” Peggy joked.

 

“Hey, I had no part in that.” Jonathan protested.

 

Phillip just laughed, and moved on with his reptile tour. 

 

He moved to a large wooden, wire habitat that was easily the largest in the room - about three feet across by five feet long - where six rock-colored creatures basked under a heat light.

 

“These are Chuckwallas - I know, it’s a funny name. This is Chuck, Sarah, Lester, Casey, Jeff, and Captain Awesome.” He gestured to each animal individually, though John doubted he’d keep up with the names.

 

On a rack above the Chuckwallas cage was an aquarium, containing four turtles. Phillip pointed them each out, naming, “Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael and Michelangelo.”

 

John nodded - at least he understood  _ that _ reference.

 

Phillip came around to a final small glass terrarium in one corner of the room. “And last but not least, rose haired tarantulas.”

 

John’s stomach flipped at the word tarantula. “T-tarantulas?”

 

Phillip smirked at him. “Yup.” To John’s horror, he opened the top of the cage and reached inside.

 

When he pulled his hands back out, each one had an arachnid the size of the hand on it.

 

John tried to hide his discomfort. “Jack and Rose.” He introduced.

 

John looked at the creatures as they began to wander around Phillip’s hand, one of them starting up his arm.

 

The Schuyler took a step towards him. “Wanna hold one?”

 

John stepped back immediately. “N-no, I don’t think so.” He looked to Peggy for help, but she only giggled behind her hand.

 

Meanwhile, Phillip advanced another step. “You sure? They’re super friendly, I promise. Neither of them have ever bitten anyone.”

 

John forced himself to stand his ground. “I-I don’t know about that…”

 

“Come on, Laurens, live a little!” Jonathan pitched in.

 

Phillip was looking at him expectantly, and John swallowed. “Well, I- I guess… How do I…?”

 

Jonathan immediately walked up to him. “Lay your hand flat. Like this.” He demonstrated, and John followed.

 

Then Phillip reached towards him with the hand that still had the animal on it - the other one had made its way onto his shoulder - and slowly adjusted so it was in John’s hand instead of his.

 

The legs were surprisingly soft, and the pale pink color of the creature did make it significantly less menacing.

 

Still, he held dead still in the hopes that he wouldn’t upset the creature.

 

“You’re a natural.” Peggy said smugly.

 

“Be careful, they’re really fragile.” Phillip warned, a small smile on his face. “I think she likes you.”

 

John gave a weak smile. “Isn’t that nice.” He managed, not taking his eyes off the animal as it started to make it’s way up his arm.

 

When it was near his elbow, Phillip asked, “You good? Need me to take her back?” He was setting Jack back in the cage, and John shook his head.

 

“She’s alright.” He didn’t need it made known that he was frightened out of his mind. After all, it was just a tarantula. Not like it could hurt him.

 

Rose made her way up his arm and to his shoulder, where John’s heartbeat began to accelerate.

 

“Still doin’ alright lil’ bro?” Jonathan asked.

 

John nodded carefully, feeling the animal’s fuzzy body brush his ear.

 

Then it was on his neck. John hated things being on his neck. His breath caught, and Phillip didn’t miss it, his expression turning concerned.

 

“Yeah you- you can take her back now.” John prompted, leaning towards the older boy.

 

Phillip nodded and reached out to collect the creature, and John felt a flood of relief when it was no longer on him.

 

He smiled though and tried to play it off. 

 

Jonathan offered him a fistbump, and he quickly gave it. 

 

“Handled her like a pro. I won’t touch those things,” He admitted. “Strictly his forte.” He gestured his brother vaguely, and John nodded his understanding.

 

“Now I guess we’d better get to the actual party setup.” Phillip carefully set Rose back down in her cage, and closed it.

 

The four unpacked bag after bag of plastic cups, paper plates, plasticware, paper napkins, and several different types of chips that Peggy and John had brought in from the trunk.

 

Then the brothers pulled out several large plastic bowls and they got to work.

 

Time flew as the group chatted and set up, swapping stories and jokes and laughing.

 

Before John knew it, it was seven and two cars pulled up the drive, one admitting the other two Schuyler sisters.

 

They came in and the siblings exchanged quick hugs before Eliza turned to John and smiled warmly. “I’m so glad you made it! Alexander will be delighted.” She gave him a tight embrace.

 

John’s stomach dropped. “Alexander..?” When Eliza released him, he turned to the window in time to see the other student climbing out of the other car.

 

He couldn’t help the heat that rose to his face, as Alexander made his way up to the door, his arms loaded with grocery bags.

 

John quickly moved to get the door, since his friend had his hands full, and the younger student tugged at the scarf around his neck self-consciously.

 

Alexander flashed him a dazzling smile as he walked past. “Thank you very much.” He said cheekily.

 

He set the bags in his arms on the clear spot the Schuylers had made on the counter, and then immediately moved to Eliza, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her on the cheek.

 

John looked away.

 

“‘Sup, lil’ bro?” Phillip gave Alexander a manly hug as well, patting him sharply on the back.

 

“Not much man.” Alexander responded as he moved to give Jonathan a hug as well. “Been a minute.” He gestured to the many bags. “I brought booze.”

 

Both boys nodded. 

 

“We got another chuck.” Phillip informed him. 

 

Alexander perked up. “Can I see?” He asked.

 

Phillip excitedly gestured him to follow, before heading back down the hallway he’d taken John down to the exotics room.

 

Alexander and Jonathan both followed.

 

Eliza rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if he’s dating me for my brother’s reptile obsession.” She commented lightly.

 

Angelica shook her head. “Don’t think like that.”

 

Eliza shrugged. “I don’t know man, he’s really got a thing for those lizards.” She pointed out as she began to unbag the alcohol from the bags Alexander had brought.

 

Angelica scoffed. “Speaking of, you guys must be getting pretty serious, huh?” She prodded.

 

Eliza’s cheeks tinted pink. “I don’t know… I guess.”

 

Angelica frowned, unbagging more bottles. “What do you mean, you guess? Is everything alright?”

 

Eliza pushed her sister playfully. “Everything’s fine. I mean… I don’t know. He’s just seemed kind of… Distant, as of late.”

 

John swallowed, tugging at his scarf as he helped the girls put away bottles.

 

“Distant how?” Angelica pushed. 

 

Eliza shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder…” She shook her head. “Nevermind.”

 

Angelica stopped her sisters hand halfway to another bag. “What?”

 

Eliza dropped her gaze, and her voice got low. “I think something happened the other night. He was texting me some nonsense in the dead middle of the night, and I sorta shrugged it off because it seemed like drunk chatter, you know? But then the next night he wouldn’t…” 

 

Angelica smacked a palm on the counter, a little louder than was absolutely necessary. “Wouldn’t what?” Her tone was calm, but her eyes were alight.

 

Eliza looked uncomfortable, drawing a hand to the back of her neck as a blush rose in her cheeks. “He wouldn’t let me take his shirt off. And since then, he hasn’t.”

 

John swallowed, turning his gaze away.

 

He met Peggy’s eyes, and she was looking between him and her sisters with a calculating look.

 

When her gaze rested on him, her eyes narrowed.

 

The other sisters seemed to take note of him for the first time when Eliza’s soft hand landed on his shoulder.

 

“John, you’re like his best friend. Do you know where he was last Friday?” Her eyes were pleading, hopeful.

 

John hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Y-yeah, we um…” He swallowed thickly. “We were hanging out.”

 

Eliza’s face lit up. “Really?” Then she frowned. “If he was just with you…” then she threw her hands in the air. “Whatever. He was just with you. That’s what matters.”

 

John dropped his gaze, feeling guilt welling in his chest.

 

_ He was just with you. That’s what matters. _

 

When John looked back to Peggy, she was watching him with a cold, set expression.

 

Uh-oh.

 

She gave him a stern look, and then turned to her sisters before the silence could stretch. “Need a hand?” She offered Eliza, as the small framed girl hefted a large glass bottle from the bag.

 

Peggy moved past John to help her, and the young buy took a moment to recover himself.

 

When he was confident in his voice again, he turned back to the girls just as the other three boys returned from the little animal sanctuary.

 

Alexander flashed John another dazzling smile, and moved to sit on a counter out of the way, while the girls continued to unpack the alcohol.

 

“Yeesh, Alexander,” Angelica commented as she unbagged a fat bottle of fireball. “Have you no class?”

 

The brunet crossed his arms. “What? Don’t like whiskey?”

 

Angelica shook her head. “I don’t mind whiskey, but this isn’t whiskey. This is liquid fire, and four shots will get you trashed.”

 

Alexander scoffed. “I beg to differ. Maybe you just can’t hold your liquor, Angie.” He commented slyly.

 

Angelica looked taken aback. “How dare you. I’ll drink you under the table any day.” She insisted.

 

“Ooooh,” Peggy and Eliza cooed together.

 

“Be careful with him,” John suggested. “He’s reckless.”

 

Angelica let out a laugh. “No offense John, but you don’t strike me as a heavy drinker. Just because he outdrank you says nothing about his chances with me.”

 

“Be careful what you get into here,” Jonathan warned. “She’s crazy.” He gestured to his sister subtly.

 

Angelica crossed her arms, a satisfied look on her face.

 

Alexander quirked up an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with the challenge. _God,_ that was hot.

 

“Alright, Schuyler.” He hopped down off the counter. “Let’s settle this like adults. Ten bucks, if I match you shot for shot. Your drink of choice.”

 

Angelica smirked. “Twenty.” She pressed.

 

Alexander smirked right back, extending a hand. “Deal.”

 

She shook it. “Deal.” She agreed.

 

The Schuylers burst into excited conversation, as the rest of the alcohol was put up for the party, and they began to put out bowls of the chips they’d bought and many other treats throughout the house.

 

It was nearing eight thirty when the first guests began to show up, and Jonathan went and hooked his phone up to the large speakers in the living space, where the crew migrated, and began playing music.

 

Gradually more people filed into the house and it began to really feel like a party.

 

John started himself light with a beer, which he nursed thoughtfully as he watched the party grow to life.

 

It wasn’t long before the young student began to grow overwhelmed with the volume of people, and went outside for some fresh air, to find Philip and Jonathan setting up a table tennis table with beer pong.

 

Phillip looked up when John came out, and gave him a smile. “Give us a hand, Laurens?”

 

John gave a small smile, nodded, and made his way over to the older boys.

 

Phillip handed him the tap to a beer keg and a stack of red plastic cups.

 

John began systematically setting up the cups, and silence passed between the three for a beat.

 

After they had finished, Jonathan extended a closed fist to John and he obliged with a fist bump.

 

Jonathan seemed to study him for a moment, and then glanced to Phillip before turning back to John.

 

“You smoke?” He asked him.

 

John pressed his lips together, and shook his head.

 

Jonathan nodded. “Alright, well, we’re gonna dip out for a minute to do that, and then I think Alex and Angie are coming out here to settle their bet, so… See you in a minute.”

 

John gave a small wave as the two boys went back inside.

 

He wondered momentarily why they had gone inside, before he dismissed the thought on the account that they could very well just be going to the front yard.

 

John walked out, past where he wasn’t sure was their yard anymore, to the seashore.

 

He closed his eyes and the ocean breeze carried a salty scent from the waves that washed over him, peaceful like a lullaby.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there before he heard the sliding glass door to the yard open again, and didn’t bother turning around to see who it delivered.

 

Instead he just opened his eyes, looking out over the ocean.

 

A hand landed on his shoulder, and the stern face of Peggy Schuyler appeared by his side. “We need to talk.” She said in a hushed voice.

 

John swallowed, but nodded. 

 

Peggy looked out over the ocean. “John… I don’t know exactly what type of relationship you have with Alexander - and I don’t want to.” She shook her head slightly. “But… Think about how this is gonna come out in the end. Whatever is going on, it’s only going to end in heartbreak.”

 

John dropped his gaze slightly, then turned it back out towards the waves.

 

He knew Peggy was right - what had happened between him and Alexander was already wrong, and it was already too far - but a small voice in his head protested.

 

He didn’t want to let Alexander go, even if he didn’t really have him in the first place.

 

He was saved from having to respond when the glass door slid open again, and John turned around to see the remaining four Schuylers and Alexander come outside, followed by a few partygoers.

 

The latter group made their way to the beer pong table and began to chat excitedly amongst themselves, while the Schuylers and Alexander went to a white folding table on the right side of the door, tucked in a corner against the house.

 

“I’m not missing this.” John decided, offering Peggy a hand.

 

She smirked and took it, and the two made their way back up towards the house.

 

Angelica had picked a fat, round-topped bottle that John didn’t recognize, and a line of six shot glasses sat on the table between the two.

 

Neither looked ready to back down, both seeming confident that they wouldn’t be bested.

 

John was sure if nothing else, this competition would be worth the night.

 

Phillip was pouring the light brown liquid into the shot glasses, as he repeated the parameters of the bet for the small crowd gathering curiously.

 

“Okay, the rules are simple; the two are going to begin on the shots. Whoever gives first, loses and owes the other twenty bucks. If you throw up, you lose. If you break a glass, you lose. If you can’t drink anymore, you lose.” He seemed to be enjoying the growing crowd, as he let a beat of silence pass before he continued. “On this side, we have my baby sister Angie, whose got a rep around here for this sort of thing. On the other, Alexander Hamilton, a new challenger from NYU.”

 

He pulled a red handkerchief out of his pocket. “On your marks,” Alexander cracked his neck, and Angelica popped her knuckles. “Get set,” Each picked up a shot glass, not breaking eye contact. 

 

With a dramatic flair of the handkerchief, Phillip shouted, “Go!”

 

They each downed the first three shots without any visible trouble, and Phillip was refilling the glasses as soon as they hit the table.

 

They both reached seven before Alexander’s resolve seemed to quaver.

 

Angelica raised an eyebrow at him, as she downed her eighth.

 

Alexander set his mouth, and took another shot.

 

They matched up to ten before it was Angelica’s turn to hesitate, as she swayed slightly on her feet.

 

“I’ll admit, Hamilton, you’ve got game.” She muttered unsteadily.

 

Alexander grinned in a self-satisfied way. “Not going soft on me now, are you Schuyler?” He asked mischievously.

 

Angelica narrowed her eyes, and both downed their eleventh shot.

 

“This is getting intense.” Said a girl from somewhere behind John.

 

Both downed their twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth shot, and both hesitated.

 

Angelica drew a hand to her mouth uncertainly, and Alexander gripped the table for balance.

 

Phillip looked between the two. “It’s gonna be a close one, maybe even a tie?” He suggested.

 

This seemed to rub both the wrong way, as they shot identical glares to the oldest Schuyler.

 

They took another shot together, and then another.

 

“Maybe you guys should take it easy…” Eliza muttered beside Angelica, who waved her off.

 

“Who can’t hold their liquor, Hamilton?” Angelica sneered in a lazy tone.

 

Alexander scoffed. “We’ll see.”

 

Seventeen to them both.

 

Eighteen.

 

John was beginning to get nervous for the both of them, as the bottle drained and he innocently nursed his beer.

 

“Come on, give it up already.” Alexander slurred. “I’ve never been out-drank.” 

 

Despite his words, Alexander’s cheeks were flush and he swayed unsteadily where he stood.

 

Angelica let out a sharp laugh. “Me neither.” She fired back, as she downed her twentieth shot.

 

Alexander was quick to follow, and the two did their twenty-first together.

 

“You know, this is getting a little far…” John muttered to Alexander, who in turn reached out for his hand to steady himself.

 

“I’m fine.” He muttered, the sharp scent of alcohol stinging from his hot breath on John’s cheek.

 

When Alexander seemed steady again, John released his hand, fighting the heat rising in his cheeks and avoiding Eliza’s gaze.

 

The two did another shot together, and Angelica burped loudly. “Ooh…” She drew a hand to her mouth.

 

Alexander smirked. “Not feelin’ too hot, Angie?” He teased, his voice heavily slurring now.

 

Angelica’s eyes flashed. “‘M fine.” She assured him reaching for another shot glass.

 

The two did their twenty-second shot.

 

Peggy and Eliza exchanged a look.

 

“You probably should take it easy…” Peggy suggested softly, moving to take Eliza’s place beside their sister.

 

Eliza in turn moved to Alexander’s side. “You feeling alright?” She asked him.

 

Alexander looked past her to John, who pretended not to notice.

 

“I feel great. Ready to party.” Alexander said, turning back to Angelica. “But I gotta win my money first.” He said smugly.

 

Angelica glared at him. “Yeah, right.” She took another shot, and Alexander did the same.

 

He was starting to look a little nauseated though, and John worried he’d be sick as a dog in the morning.

 

Eliza’s hand traced small circles on Alexander’s back, though she cringed at every shot he took.

 

They were on twenty-five when the bottle was empty, and Phillip looked relieved. “Guess the contest is over.” 

 

Alexander and Angelica both protested, but allowed themselves to be ushered inside by their sober compatriots, as John downed the rest of his drink.

 

When he made it inside after the big group passed, John saw that Angelica and Alexander were both sitting on a couch in the living room, laughing and talking over the loud music.

 

John hadn’t realized how the party had picked up inside in the time he’d been out; at some point a karaoke machine had been brought out, drinks had been lined up along the island in the kitchen, and people seemed to have taken to these things well.

 

John refilled his beer and surveyed the scene. 

 

A drunk girl was singing karaoke in a slurred voice, while a few men watched her without subtlety.

 

Phillip was animatedly talking to another young man, while Jonathan stood quietly at his side.

 

Eliza was fawning over Alexander, while he insisted he was fine, and Peggy did the same for Angelica.

 

John couldn’t help but smile to himself at the sight, although he still felt a pang of guilt whenever he caught sight of Alexander and Eliza together.

 

He quickly downed the rest of his drink to push the thought from his mind.

 

As John moved to refill his cup, he heard a commotion from the living space behind him.

 

He turned around in time to see Angelica disappear down the hallway, Peggy and Eliza hot on her heels.

 

He saw Alexander watching from his place on the couch with a concerned expression.

 

A few minutes passed and the Schuyler sisters emerged, Eliza propping Angelica up.

 

Peggy glanced at John, and then said something to her sisters and pulled car keys out of her pocket, handing them to Eliza.

 

Eliza and Angelica started towards the door, while Peggy made her way over to John.

 

“Hey, Angie is sick so we’re gonna take her home. I’ll be back after if you wanna stay.” She informed him.

 

John nodded. “Yeah, uh, hope she feels better.”

 

Peggy nodded quickly, a small smile on her lips. “Thanks.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, before turning and starting towards the door. “See you soon!” She called over her shoulder as she left.

 

John watched her go, before turning back to finish refilling his drink (this time with something dark he didn’t bother checking the label on).

 

Drink in hand, he made his way over to the couch where Angelica had been sitting.

 

Alexander immediately moved to lay on John’s shoulder, pressing up against him.

 

John swallowed.

 

“Um, Alex?” He prodded quietly.

 

Alexander nuzzled into him, a small, pained groan escaping his throat.

 

John shook his head, feeling the heat from the other student making his heart rate accelerate.

 

He tried to fight the blush rising in his cheeks as Alexander began to giggle inexplicably.

 

Slowly, still laughing to himself, he lifted his head to face John.

 

The younger boy just stared back at him. “What?” He finally asked when it became clear Alexander wasn’t going to explain himself.

 

Alexander shrugged. “‘M really glad you’re here.” He slurred.

 

John frowned, and Alexander snuggled back up against him.

 

“And I won. Angie owes me twenty bucks.” He let out another small laugh.

 

John shook his head again, trying to fight the glee that was still welling in his chest over _‘M really glad you’re here._

 

He tore his gaze away from the dozing older student to take a long drink from his cup.

 

Whatever he’d taken tasted bitter and burned all the way down his throat. He had to fight back a cough.

 

John scanned the room to see Jonathan eyeing him oddly.

 

He felt his face heat up more, and shrugged with his free shoulder to indicate he had no choice in the situation.

 

Jonathan nodded, and then said something to Phillip before crossing over to John.

 

“Can I talk to you outside?” He asked.

 

John glanced to the other boy dozing on his shoulder, eyes half lidded. He looked back up to Jonathan and nodded, and then gently prompted Alexander to sit up straight.

 

The older boy immediately responded, sitting up straight and tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, looking self-conscious as he avoided Jonathan’s gaze.

 

John forced his gaze away from his friend, standing to follow Jonathan outside.

 

As soon as they were outside, Jonathan pulled what John first thought was a cigarette from a tin in his pocket and lit it.

 

He took two long, thoughtful hits from what John was starting to realize was not, in fact, a cigarette as he gazed thoughtfully out towards the sea.

 

He then extended the strange smelling white thing to John, who shook his head.

 

Jonathan nodded as if this answered a question he hadn’t asked.

 

He took another long, thoughtful hit.

 

John was beginning to wonder if he was meant to speak first, when finally Jonathan sighed softly.

 

“John, I gotta level with you.” 

 

No good conversation starts that way, John thought.

 

“That boy in there… He has my sisters heart. Wholly. Not to say they’re in love or anything - I don’t know if I’d go that far - but…” He shook his head. “Just… Just keep that in mind.”

 

John dropped his gaze, nodding slightly.

 

Jonathan was quiet a moment, puffing on what John was beginning to think was an illicit substance, though he tried not to think too hard about that.

 

When the quiet stretched though, and Jonathan offered the white rolled thing to John again, he considered it carefully.

 

“Ever smoked before?” The Schuyler asked.

 

John shook his head, gingerly taking it between his fingers. “I tried to take a drag off of a cigarette once, in high school.” He admitted, a smile creeping onto his lips. “I coughed so hard I almost threw up.”

 

Jonathan laughed lightheartedly at this. “Well this is gonna be difficult then. Take some air into your lungs first, then hit it.”

 

John nodded, and was about to put it to his lips when Jonathan stopped him.

 

“Wait, you aren’t driving tonight, right?”

 

John shook his head, and Jonathan nodded, gesturing him to go ahead.

 

“You’re probably gonna cough. Don’t worry about it too much, just try to… Relax.”

 

John nodded again, turning his attention back to it.

 

His hands weren’t working as precisely as they normally would have, his state being what it was, and he hoped he wouldn't drop it. That would be a realistic first impression, and representation of exactly the type of person he was.

 

He decided how better than experience to learn? He put his mouth to the thing - inhaling a little bit of air first - and took a deep breath.

 

It immediately burned, and John barely staved off the urge to start coughing as he inhaled.

 

He quickly handed the thing back to his new friend, and tried to breathe out without coughing but failed.

 

He began to splutter and hack, praying he wouldn’t tear up his throat, and was dully aware of Jonathan behind him laughing.

 

The older boy took an expert hit, and exhaled without incident.

 

John tried to relax his lungs, feeling his throat rasp as his mouth began to go dry.

 

Jonathan gave him a moment, and then offered it back to him.

 

John took it, determined to redeem himself.

 

“Remember; the more relaxed you are, the more air you’re getting, the easier it’ll be not to cough.” He had an amused glint in his eye.

 

John took a deep breath and let it out before attempting to hit the intoxicating substance again.

 

This time it was hotter, burning in all the residual places it had last time as well as feeling as if he were scorching his lungs.

 

Despite this, he slowly exhaled and managed with only a few small coughs towards the end.

 

Jonathan looked impressed as he accepted the thing back - it was almost burned up by now - and took one final, long hit.

 

As he exhaled, he put it out on the wooden railing before them, and tucked what was left behind his ear.

 

He looked at John brightly, his eyes red and heavily lidded despite his easy expression. “Now when you go home for Christmas and everyone asks about your exciting time in New York, you can tell them you smoked a joint for the first time.” He offered his knuckles to John.

 

The younger boy immediately bumped them, after which Jonathan turned to head back inside. “Good talk!” He called over his shoulder.

 

John’s head was beginning to feel odd, as if a thick cushion of cotton was pressed against the inside of his skull.

 

In spite of fear for looking like a stereotype, he looked at his hands. They felt… odd. Not in a cinematic, live-action-to-claymation type of way, but certainly odd.

 

In fact, his whole body felt odd. His skin almost felt like it was buzzing, and he ran his hands up and down his forearms. When had it gotten so cold outside?

 

He turned and went inside.

 

Not quite feeling the party energy yet, John wandered amidst the intoxicated young people surrounding him.

 

So many faces he didn’t know, so many stories and complex issues, so much alcohol and he was now certain other intoxicants, filled the room as he carefully maneuvered between people.

 

John made it to the other side of the living room to find a small room with the door open, loud laughter and an odd aroma surrounding it.

 

He just caught sight of Jonathan as he disappeared into the room.

 

John didn’t particularly want to resume his spot on the couch, seeing as the company he’d be in.

 

On the other hand, he didn’t really want to stand either.

 

So he went and refilled his drink - switching back to beer, just to be safe - and followed Jonathan into the small room.

 

When he walked in, he was immediately hit with that damp, almost foresty, skunky scent.

 

Jonathan smiled up at him from the floor, beckoning him to sit beside him on his right, opposite of Phillip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... That happened.
> 
> The next chapter should finish out the party, and soon to come is the wedding! It's all been leading up to that, sooo yeah!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, and a side note - if you follow me on tumblr/see my stuff on tumblr ever, come say hi! I love to hear from y'all, just let me know who you are!
> 
> And if anyone is interested, I'm still looking for a beta (you can blame my poor self-beta-ing skills for continuity errors and other issues of the sort ^^').


	16. The Party: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy told John to live a little, and he figures _what the hell?_ Why not? 
> 
> Finally taking some advice, for better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw/cw for drug use, illicit substance abuse.
> 
> ITS BEEN A MINUTE But I'm finally updating.
> 
> Have fun!

John took a moment to take in the room first - there were four bean bag chairs(all occupied by people John didn’t recognize), as well as several people seated on the floor in a loose circle. 

The room had thick, dark green carpet, and the walls were bare save for a television in one corner, and a small, closed wooden cabinet underneath it.

The young student took a seat beside Jonathan in the circle, and noted what the group were doing.

Now, John was a good kid. He’d always been a good kid, not necessarily because he didn’t have it in him not to, but he supposed because he’d never been in any company that would promote anything less.

But being a good kid didn’t make him stupid. He knew that the large glass contraption in the hand of one of the bean bag chair guys was a bong, and knew that the smaller glass piece being passed around the room was a pipe.

The guy in the bean bag chair, right to Phillip’s left was currently taking a (hit? Drag? Toke? John wasn’t sure what the exact terminology was) off of the bong.

It bubbled and when the man exhaled, he smiled, and then gestured to John with his chin before looking back at Jonathan. “Who’s this?” He asked.

Jonathan smiled. “A friend of my sisters, we’re thinking of calling him ‘Little Johnny’ since I’m already John.”

John shook his head. “We’re definitely not thinking that.” He countered. “We can just call you Jonathan, since that’s your name.” He suggested.

The older boy looked slightly surprised and amused. “Really? Like it’s not yours?” He drew a hand to his chest dramatically. “In my own house.” He shook his head in mock disappointment.

“Actually, it isn’t. My name, not your house.”

Jonathan narrowed his eyes, as the man on his left laughed and passed the bong to the guy on his left. 

“Well, at any rate, he was here first. So in this circle, you’re Little Johnny. Or,” The man on Jonathan’s left made a face at the name. “Lil’ John. I like that better.” He decided.

Jonathan nodded. 

“I’m James, by the way.” He introduced.

John nodded, still eyeing the bong with curiosity. “Nice to meet you.” John acknowledged.

James seemed to catch John’s gaze drifting, and let out a soft laugh. “Ever smoked before, Lil’ John?” He asked.

John bit back a grimace at the nickname. He glanced to Jonathan, who was smirking bemusedly. 

“Um, like, a minute ago.” He muttered. “But-but no, not really.” He added, trying to push confidence into his voice.

James was just smiling at him with a knowing look.

The person he’d handed the bong off to now handed it to the next person, and then turned to John. “You’ll be alright kid, it ain’t as bad as you expect.” He smiled slyly. “I’m Lil’ James.” He introduced, a mischievous look on his fox-like face.

The next in the circle, a girl he’d handed the bong off to, paused before her hit (or whatever the fuck you call it), to give a small wave. “Maria.” She greeted, before going back to take a deep breath of smoke.

The next in the circle (the last on a bean bag) gave a small, reserved nod. “Aaron.” He greeted.

Sitting last in the circle, from John’s immediate right, waved a shockingly pretty girl. “Martha.” 

John raised his eyebrows. “I have a sister named Martha.” He commented, as Aaron accepted the bong from Maria.

As he did, Martha offered the small pipe in her hands to John, tilting her head at him.

“That’s crazy.” She commented.

John took the pipe uncertainly.

He looked in the bowl hoping to confirm that it was just weed, but what did he know?

He must have considered the thing a moment to long - he really didn’t know what he was doing - because Martha let out a soft laugh.

“Look- here.” She took the pipe back from him, picking up a lighter she’d set on the floor.

She carefully demonstrated the technique, and John watched closely.

Then she handed him the pipe and held the lighter in her hand. “I’m gonna light it for you, alright?”

John cast a wary glance around the room, praying no one laughed.

When he looked back to Martha, she was giving him an amused look. “And there are no judgements here.” She added. “We were all newbies once.” She pointed out.

“Right.” John nodded, and tentatively held the pipe up to his lips.

When Martha lit it, he took a deep breath, though he felt that same burning from earlier and quickly took his finger off the little hole that let air in before taking the rest of his breath.

When he carefully exhaled, he silently congratulated himself for not coughing.

Martha smiled. “See? It’s as easy as that.”

John beamed back, and then took the lighter from Martha and passed it and the pipe to Jonathan.

In the time the whole ordeal had taken them, however, Aaron had set the bong down between him and Martha, apparently waiting for her to take it.

John considered what it would feel like to hit that. And he was next.

He watched Martha as she lit the bowl carefully, and then pulled out the actual thing holding it and inhaled the remaining smoke. How did these people have lungs so big?

John tried not to think too much on that, instead readied himself for what came next.

Martha lit the bowl for herself one more time, and when she exhaled a sharp cough escaped her lips.

To John’s surprise, she passed it not to him but past him to Jonathan, shaking her head.

“It’s kashed.” She croaked, followed by another bout of coughing.

John was relieved to see someone besides himself cough, and it eased the atmosphere in the room.

Conversation picked up between a few people in the room, though John was far more interested in watching Jonathan.

The man had pulled a lock box around from behind him, and inside it were a few things John was curious as to the function of.

He watched as Jonathan pulled the part that of the bong the weed sat in out apart from the rest - he informed John this was called a ‘stem’ - and dumped it into the box.

He he then picked up a prescription bottle and opened it, pulling out a clump of greenery about the length of a small nail, and the width of a nickel.

He unscrewed the lid on a metal contraption and placed the weed into it, before spinning the top a few times.

Once he had done this, he opened another compartment on the thing and pulled out finely ground weed from within.

Fascinating

He then packed that into the bong’s bowl, and offered it back to John.

The younger man tried to put on an air of confidence as he accepted the thing.

“Just take a breath for a short while, and then pull the stem out-” He demonstrated by popping it out “-and clear the chamber.” He smirked. “And you’ll probably cough. Don’t think about coughing though, or you will for sure.”

Even just hearing Jonathan talk about coughing was making John’s throat itchy, but he nodded nonetheless.

With less than perfect composure, he struck the lighter, lowered t to the bowl, and began to inhale.

This was easy. It felt nothing like the pipe or the joint, but more like… just air.

“Easy there,” James warned, as John took a deep hit. “It’s more than you think.” He muttered.

John pulled the stem out and quickly cleared the chamber, surprised by just how easy that had been.

His cockiness was squashed, however, when he tried to exhale and immediately felt as if his throat was on fire.

He watched in horror as a thick cloud came out with every sputtering cough.

Jonathan patted him roughly on the back, shaking his head despite the low chuckle coming from him.

John desperately tried to catch his breath, coughing despite himself every time he tried to exhale.

John steadied himself slowly, and then nodded.

He looked up at James, ignoring the burning in his cheeks and throat. “You were right. That was more than I thought.” He let out a low laugh that was cut off by a cough, which only encouraged him to laugh harder.

The rest of the group laughed with him, which was nice.

Then John stopped abruptly, as he felt what had just happened.

The stoners were all still laughing and began to fall back into conversation, but John was having trouble hearing them over his own thoughts.

He was suddenly hungry - he’d skipped dinner, since he’d been here, and he was sure it was getting late into the night.

He watched the group converse animatedly, and when he met Jonathan’s eyes, the elder Schuyler was looking at him.

John stared back at him, and it took him a solid few seconds to realize that the older boy was talking to him.

“Sorry,” He gave his head a slight shake, trying to focus in on what he was saying. “What?”

The corner of Jonathan’s mouth twitched upwards, and he let out a small breath. “I was just asking if you wanted to go find something to eat.”

“God, yes.” John immediately accepted, and a knowing smile crept onto Jonathan’s lips.

John got the feeling he had experience with this, and allowed himself to be guided out of the room and back towards the living room.

As soon as they were out the door, however he hesitated.

In the state he was in, he had to take a moment to take in what was happening.

Peggy was back, sitting on the couch chatting happily with another young girl John didn’t recognize.

In the karaoke corner, a man stood and mumbled slurred lyrics while seeming to study his shoes.

Few other people remained, those standing or shuffling around the room, one couple making out sloppily in the kitchen, blocking the drinks for a timid young girl.

Peggy looked up when the boys emerged, and a dark look passed over her face, before it was replaced with one of mild irritation as she said a quick word to the girl she’d been talking to, and started towards the boys.

John felt an overwhelming sense of apprehension as she approached, and without meaning to took a step back.

Peggy must have noticed, because she gave him a half apologetic, half amused look. When she reached them, she punched him softly in the arm. “What’d’you think I’m gonna do, swing at you?” She teased.

“You just did!” John pointed out defensively, and they laughed.

Then she turned to Jonathan, and her expression turned slightly accusatory. “Now you.” She placed her hands on her hips.

Jonathan put his hands up. “I’m innocent, Sheriff.” He claimed.

Peggy rolled her eyes, gesturing at John as if his presence was evidence that he was, in fact, guilty. “The poor boy looks stoned out of his mind, with your peer-pressuring ass.” She claimed.

“I’m fine.” John argued, and Peggy turned towards him skeptically.

She glanced between the boys for a second, before nodding despite her unconvinced expression. “If you say so. Good luck getting past Angie with that though.” She scrunched up her nose, then stage whispered dramatically, “And you may want to spray some perfume or something.”

John sniffed the air, although he couldn’t seem to smell anything. He wondered if Peggy was just making fun for the sake of it, and decided to let it go.

Her bright expression was back. “Anyway, let me know whenever you wanna go home. I’m good to stay however late you want.” She gave them a dazzling smile, then offered John a fist bump.

John accepted with a fond look. “Will do, Schuyler.” He returned, vaguely aware that there was another Schuyler on his other side.

Jonathan nodded with a look that said he did this often and knew the drill.

As Peggy bounded back to her seat, where John saw Aaron had also passed them at some point to sit on the other side of the girl, intimately close and was playing with her hair absently as the two conversed, Jonathan drew his attention as he continued on his way to the kitchen.

John immediately followed.

Without any attempt at class or subtlety, but not roughly or with more force than necessary, Jonathan pushed the couple blocking the drinks away from the island and towards the wall.

They didn’t resist or seem to notice really at all, and continued to slobber all over each other as the timid young girl gave Jonathan an appreciative glance before refilling her drink.

John turned his attention instead to Jonathan, who was now moving past the island to a cabinet above the dishwasher, to the right of the refrigerator.

He opened the cabinet, turning back to face John. “I was saving these ‘till the party dwindled down a bit.” He glanced around the sparsely populated living room, then shrugged and went back to digging in the cabinet.

He pulled out a cardboard box, about a foot wide and one and a half long.

It had no cap, and when he set it on the counter, John peered over to see several dozen individually wrapped pastry treats.

In the state he was in, this was the best thing John could have imagined at the time.

Jonathan smirked, gesturing dramatically over the food.

A smile stretched across John’s face. “You are a genius.”

Jonathan shrugged in mock humility. “I’m just experienced.” He picked out a pack of mini chocolate donuts from the box, and then gestured to it as he began to step away. “Help yourself.”

John quickly moved towards the box, but there were so many options.

There were hostess treats - like ding dongs, and suzy q’s, zingers, sno balls. There were also mini donuts, cream cheese pastries, cherry pastries, and a number of other things John couldn’t name.

After a moment’s consideration, John grabbed a cream cheese pastry and began to take off the wrapper.

It was like something from another dimension.

John could taste every subtle flavor, every way the texture complimented, and it was a whole new experience.

He closed his eyes a moment as he savored the taste, and heard Jonathan chuckle.

It didn’t matter. Jonathan couldn’t argue that this food wasn’t a good time all on its own.

Or… Maybe he could.

John opened his eyes as he finished chewing, and tossed a quick glance around the room to make sure he hadn’t attracted any attention.

Most of the inebriated people were far too invested in their own affairs to spare him any attention.

That was certainly for the best.

When his gaze came back to meet Jonathan’s eyes, the older boy was watching him knowingly, a bemused look on his face.

Jonathan gave him a small nod and - John worried he might have imagined the almost imperceptible gesture - a wink.

The next hour or so went by wildly fast, as John stood by the kitchen counter and watched the party, sipping his drink and people watching, snacking on the copious amounts of snacks now at his ease of access.

Inattentive, John turned to face the crowd again some time later to find Alexander had abandoned his spot on the couch.

He glanced towards the backdoor in time to see it slide shut, Alexander’s unstable silhouette outlined against the porchlight.

On some indescribable instinct, John followed his friend outside.

He was surprised to find the party slower out here - come to think of it, it had slowed down inside too; John hadn’t had to shoulder past anyone or even excuse himself once to get to the door.

The air was tepid, and a cool breeze brought the scent of the ocean and with it came memories of stolen drunken kisses in the sand.

Then he saw Alexander; standing at the far rail on the yard, outlined against the sparkling sea, his hair gently ruffled by the wind. 

The sight was breathtaking.

And John was still trying to recover his breath when Alexander turned to see who’d come out of the house.

A sloppy, self-satisfied smile spread slowly across his lips, and he raised an eyebrow at John.

“Miss me?” He slurred slyly.

John rolled his eyes melodramatically, then turned and busied himself with shutting the door behind him, slowly enough that he’d have a few moments to collect himself and hopefully let the flush fade from his cheeks.

When the door was all the way shut, he knew he had to face the other man again.

He made a quick survey of the yard and found that it was not only slow, but nearly deserted; only a couple sleeping on the beer pong table remained.

Him and Alexander were practically alone.

Without meeting the older boy’s eyes, for fear he would think things he needn’t, John made his way towards Alexander. 

When he reached him, John forced his gaze up to find dark eyes watching him closely, shining in the porch light.

Stunning, John thought.

Alexander still had a bemused look on his face, and John shook his head, turning his gaze out towards the sea.

“Weird, isn’t it,” Alex started, turning his own head back to the horizon. “How your brain makes these… Connections, like… Evocative thoughts intrude when you’re just tryin’ to chill.”

John couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him. “What’s on your mind?” He gave himself a mental high-five for the casualty of his tone.

Alexander shrugged, and John felt the heat from his shoulder. “Like, the ocean. The ocean, to me, used to just be that; the ocean. A hundred ‘n forty million square miles of water, covering seventy percent of the earth. Waves were just waves. Disturbances in the water caused by the conflicting gravitational pulls of the sun and moon. The beach was just sand, seashells and debris on the edge of the ocean. All of those things were just as they are, until…”

John felt his face burning. “Until what?” He heard himself say in spite of the strong feeling in his gut that he ought to change the subject or something.

Alexander was quiet for a long moment - the only sound between the two boys being the low slosh of the waves against the shore below, and the whispering of the faint wind through the trees.

“Until they became parts of a memory.” he murmured distantly, his gaze far off over the horizon. “Components of… a feeling.”

He seemed satisfied with that being said.

John chewed his lip. “And… what feeling would that be?” he was fairly certain he knew the answer.

Alexander seemed enraptured with the horizon, his eyes distant and foggy.

Then he shook his head, dropping his gaze to the wood railing before them, picking absently at it. “Dunno.” he managed ineloquently.

John was watching the older boy closely now, and if he noticed he gave no indication, merely running the tips of his fingers along the weather worn wood.

The breeze picked up again, Alexander's hair flying wildly back to reveal his slightly flushed cheeks in the porch light.

His brow was slightly furrowed, creating odd shadows and accentuating his troubled eyes.

The quiet stretched, and John relished the moment.

Then Alex spoke up unexpectedly. “A lot of feelings are attached to the beach now.” he muttered, his tone distant and thoughtful. “And I can't shake the thought…” he shook his head. “But maybe that's precisely the issue.”

John frowned. “What does that mean?”

Alex turned to him, his eyes suddenly alight. “Thoughts. Thoughts and feelings are obviously closely connected; the way you think shapes the way you feel, right? But it's the whole left-brain right-brain thing; we’re often made to choose between our thoughts and our feelings. Every great epic has a crucial battle within the hero about deciding to prioritize their thoughts or their feelings. Obviously, if you look at it logically the best answer is usually a balance between the two, which is the lesson the hero eventually receives. It's ephemeral.”

He stepped away from the rail and began to pace, his tone growing more vindictive. 

“But as readers, we're drawn to the hero’s indecision because it's relatable; how does one go about weighing which aspect takes priority in important, life-shaping matters? Romantics would say to always follow your heart, do what feels right. Scholars would argue to use your brain, make the logical decision that will lead to the most optimal perceived outcome. That's where the divide lies! How then are we meant to…” he trailed off, pausing with his back to John as he seemed to consider his thoughts. “It's all ephemeral…” he sounded as if he were trying to call forward a thought he couldn't quite put to words.

“What is ephemeral?” John asked, after a moment of silence.

“All of it!” He whirled around to face John, redoubled passion and mounting anxiety in his voice matching the slightly wild look in his eyes. “High school, college, a career, partners, families… this whole life is a goddamned ephemera! And all of us - you, me, Eliza, Angie, Herc and Laf, Thomas Jefferson, even the teachers - we act like it's the end-all be-all of life when it's all so… Temporary.” He moved towards John, grabbing his shoulders emphatically. “Don't you see? Left brain, right brain; thoughts and feelings; logic and heart, all of it! It doesn't matter, we just have to… to…” the look faded slightly from his face, replaced by one of intense thought. 

John was about to speak up when Alex started again.

“Life isn't about thinking or feeling or any of that stuff. None of it matters - grades, social status, career status, success and failure - it's all a product of the moment in which it exists, positing that beyond that moment, those things have no real value. The only thing that retains its value outside of the moment it exists is relationships.”

Breathing hard, the fire returned to Alexander's eyes, he started, and released Johns shoulders as his face colored.

John couldn't help the amused smile that crept onto his lips. “Okay, very insightful,” Alex looked up at him, an inquisitive look on his face. “And don't get me wrong, I love a drunken rant about how temporary life is, but uh… the word ephemeral, what does it mean?”

Alexander broke into a grin. “Oh. Like, temporary; something irrelevant outside of its moment basically.”

John nodded slowly. “I see.”

Alex looked slightly bashful, but was still grinning.

He moved deliberately closer to John, the younger backing up into the railing as the goofy grin morphed into something more mischievous.

“It's all an ephemera.” he muttered as he leaned in towards the southerner.

John felt his heart rate pick up as Alexander's heat, contrasting with the cold night air, came closer and closer in proximity.

He didn't move in protest as the other boy raised a hand to his jaw, looking affectionately into his eyes.

Alexander's other hand went around his waist as he moved still closer, until their bodies were mere inches apart.

The sound of the sliding glass door caught John’s attention, and he gently but urgently pushed Alexander away.

The older boy looked rather startled, stumbling slightly in his inebriated state and flushing crimson.

John’s gaze darted to the doorway, where Johnathan Schuyler stood.

John dropped his gaze, trying to fight down the panic rising in is chest.

Stupid right brain, he thought repremansively as his face burned.

“Leave leave room for Jesus, boys.” Came the lighthearted, easy-going intonation of the older man.

John looked up to meet Johnathan's eyes, and saw no sign he'd seen - or interpreted - what had been happening between the two students.

Johnathan sauntered over to John and Alex, another joint tucked behind his ear.

He started down the wooden steps from the yard towards the beach, and paused on the last step, turning back to the boys. “Care to join me?” he asked.

John and Alexander looked at each other a moment, before John shrugged and started towards the stairs.

After a moment's hesitation, Alex followed.

The three walked down the stairs, out onto the vast expanse of shore and Johnathan made a comfortable indent in the sand a seat for himself.

Alex and John followed suit.

Johnathan plucked up the joint and drew a lighter from his pocket.

With difficulty, he lit the thing and took a long hit.

Then he offered it to Alex, who hesitated, regarding it.

Johnathan exhaled a face cloud of smoke and went to take another hit before offering it again. “You smoke?” he asked.

Alexander kicked his lips uncertainly. “I've only shotgunned, to be honest.”

Johnathan nodded, moving to pass instead to John, and nodding to the youngest of the trio. “He can shotgun it for you.” he offered casually.

John took the joint, but furrowed his eyebrows at the Schuyler. “Theoretically, yes, but…” he cleared his throat with dignity. “What, uh- what is shotgunning? Exactly?” he asked timidly.

The corner of Johnathan's mouth twitched upwards. He looked like he was about to explain when the sliding glass door tore open, catching all of their attention.

“John, puker!” Came Peggy's exasperated voice from the great wooden expanse behind them.

Johnathan looked irritated for a moment, then his impassive voice boomed back, “On my way, Pegs!” he began to stand, gesturing to the joint. “Basically, you take a hit and when you exhale, he breathes it in.” He started back up the stairs, then paused. “Oh uh, and if y'all finish that before I get back, just save the roach and make sure you give it to me or Phil before you leave.” With that, he was gone.

John hesitated, then turned to Alexander, who had a thoughtful look on his face.

“So,” John swallowed. “I just take a hit, and then…”

“Then then when you exhale, I breathe that smoke.” Alexander chimed in, his voice cheerful but his face still intense.

John nodded. Here goes nothing, he thought apprehensively.

He took a thick hit, and when he began to exhale Alexander leaned in so his mouth was inches from John's and took a deep breath, his gaze focused and not looking nearly as drunk as earlier. 

It was hot.

John slowly took another hit, and when he exhaled, Alexander leaned in even closer, hardly missing any smoke, before leaning back and slowly exhaling to the sky, exposing his neck.

John shivered against the cold.

When Alexander met his eyes again, John was stricken by how intense the older student look.

He took another slow hit, and when Alex leaned in he couldn't contain himself anymore; John closed the distance between them, and ensured Alex wouldn't be missing any smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... yeah. 
> 
> Your welcome! Come yell at me on Tumblr @QueenofthrdamnNile


	17. Ephemera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Alex get into some trouble, but always for the right reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYY!  
> I just realized this diculous story has 60,000 words so woo! that feels like so manywhatamidoingwithmylife aaa
> 
> Also, in case anyone was interested to know, I am no longer employed which means that I will have waaaaay more free time to write, so yay for downsizing!
> 
> Also I'm sorry not a lot goes down in this chapter, but the shit that does go down goes down _hard_
> 
> So hold onto ya butts because this finna be a rollercoaster!

It was these moments, these pure resting moments, that made it all come together. 

 

Sweet, beautiful in their brevity while strong in their sense of eternity, moments that brought a person a little closer to their identity.

 

Moments where two souls became aware together, became sensitive to one another,  _ felt _ like one couldn't without the other.

 

But this moment wasn't perfect.

 

It wasn't crafted by the gods, pivotal in some grandiose sense, or even instrumental to the world's evolution in any way.

 

It wasn't a pure moment, marked by the deception and uncertainty that brought it to be, unclean in it’s nature.

 

And still, John didn’t pull away.

 

Only when Alexander suddenly pulled back did John drop back into reality and remember where he was, coughing out the last few plumes of smoke.

 

John’s ears were ringing again and  _ how had they smoked nearly half of that thing? _

 

His gaze trained on the thing in his hand, John didn’t notice Alexander was speaking to him until he gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

When John met his eyes, Alexander spoke again. 

 

“That makes sense, right?” His eyes were intense, apprehensive, and slightly abashed. 

 

His cheeks and nose were red, though whether from embarrassment or the cold it was hard to tell.

 

Either way, it was really cute.

 

John was still pondering how cute it looked, when he realized Alexander was looking at him expectantly. What was it he’d asked?

 

John pressed his lips together and nodded noncommittally.

 

Alexander’s face washed with relief.

 

“God, I’m lucky to have a friend like you.” He laughed apprehensively.

 

_ Shit, shit, shit. _ John desperately hoped whatever Alexander had been saying hadn’t been  _ that _ important.

 

Alexander certainly had seemed like it was, but John just returned to hitting the joint and allowing Alexander to inhale it, trying not to think about the proximity of the other boy’s lips to his.

 

Silence fell as the two boys sat, Alexander reclining in the sand enough to stare out over the ocean, his legs a respectable distance from John.

 

His expression was distant but content, in a way John hadn’t seen it often before.

 

Whatever assurance he’d accidentally given the older boy, John hoped it wouldn’t come back to haunt him.

 

The opening sliding glass door leaked the sound of laughter and conversation from inside, and John craned his neck to try and see who was coming outside, to no avail; the porch was overhung above where they sat, concealing them from those above and vice versa.

 

“Shhh, there’re people  _ sleeping _ out here.” Came an effeminate, drunk voice between stifled giggling.

 

“I know dear, we won’t wake them.” Returned a more masculine, steady tone.

 

John looked at Alex, and then back down at the still burning joint in his hand.

 

More giggling came from above, and as John met Alexander’s eyes, the other boy looked slightly panicked, his gaze darting between John’s face and his hand.

 

“What if somebody -  _ hic _ \- somebody sees us?” The girls voice was closer now, as if the two had moved to the railing directly above the boys.

 

“Shh, don’t worry about it babe.” The guy said coolly. “No one’s around.”

 

The girl giggled again, and John heard lips smacking.

 

He drew a hand to his mouth to stifle the incredulous laugh that would have threatened their reveal.

 

Alexander smiled, and then covered his own mouth quickly as the sounds above them devolved.

 

Those people were going to have sex.

 

The realization seemed inexplicably humorous to both boys, as they laughed silently into their hands.

 

“Hey-wait.” The girls voice sounded slightly distressed, as the heavy breathing and smacking sounds disappeared.

 

“What?” Came the other’s irritated reply.

 

There was a slight scuffling, and then the girl said a little louder. “James,  _ no! _ ”

 

“ _ God _ , babe, would you shut the  _ fuck _ up?!” There was more shuffling, and John frowned at Alexander, who was listening intently, an odd look in his eyes and his head cocked ever so slightly.

 

“James - hey!” There was a sharp thud, and Alexander’s eyes went wide as John felt himself sober up.

 

In a heartbeat, the older boy was on his feet and starting up the stairs.

 

Before John could even make it to visibility, tucking the remnants of the hastily extinguished smoke into his pocket, he heard the girl scream.

 

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” He heard Alex shout.

 

“Fuck off!” The man, John saw as he rounded the corner, was holding the girl roughly by one arm as Alexander made his way towards them.

 

There were tears running down the girls face, and John quickly started towards the couple as well.

 

“Miss, you alright?” He asked the girl.

 

“She’s  _ fine _ ,” The boy growled, drawing her closer to him.

 

The girl studied the floor. “He wasn’t talking to you.” Alexander snapped, his voice so harsh that John hesitated.

 

The girl looked up at the boys, but said nothing, a pleading look in her eyes.

 

John moved closer to the couple, as Alexander planted about four feet out. “Miss, are you alright?” John repeated.

 

She looked at the boy, who pulled her back away from John, releasing the girls arm as he planted himself in between them.

 

“I said, she’s  _ fine _ . So if you faggots could take your business somewhere  _ else _ -”

 

Suddenly, the man was on the ground, Alexander panting at John’s side with a mad look in his eye.

 

The girl screamed when it happened, and John was about to say something when the other boy was back on his feet and landing a solid strike on Alexander’s jaw.

 

They were a blur of fabric and the girl had dropped to her knees, sobbing and watching the men fight.

 

John quickly lowered himself to his knees beside her. 

 

“Miss, are you alright?” He repeated for a third time.

 

She swallowed a sob, and then nodded hurriedly.

 

John looked back to the fray to see the other man was over Alex, repeatedly striking the boy in the face.

 

John quickly moved to grab his shoulders and haul him off, but as soon as his hands made contact the boy spun around and decked him.

 

The  world reeled, as John tried to catch his balance just as another blow landed on his stomach.

 

Trying to regain his bearings, John aimed a fist in the direction the strike had come from and made solid contact.

 

He registered Alexander behind the other boy, coughing and dusting himself off.

 

He was about to call out to the older boy, when another blow landed on his shoulder, sending him spiraling to the ground.

 

He felt a weight bear down on him from behind, and quickly rolled, covering his face with his arms and staggering back to his feet.

 

The other boy was still on the ground, and John glanced around for Alex and heard the sliding glass door open and a sharp gasp.

 

“John, Phil!” He distantly heard shouted from the door, distracting him long enough for a sharp strike to his back to knock him to the floor, breathless.

 

John lay stunned a moment, and another sharp kick to his side had him spluttering.

 

He heard a thud from beside him and saw the other two boys wrestling through the sound of the girls frantic sobbing, and forced himself to stand.

 

“His arms!” John shouted, slamming into the stranger with his shoulder and effectively driving him and Alexander apart and knocking him to the ground.

 

Thankfully, Alex had understood and moved quickly to restrain the man’s left arm.

 

John grabbed his right and together they hauled the thrashing figure to his feet just as the sliding glass door slid open to admit the four remaining Schuylers, all looking stricken at the sight before them.

 

Eliza and Johnathan quickly attended the girl, while Phillip and Peggy made a beeline for John and Alex, who quickly released the struggling boy.

 

“Phil! Thank god. You need to do something about your fucking crazy faggot friends here-”

 

“ _ Hey, _ watch your mouth.” Phillip said with such authority that the man closed his mouth.

 

The older boy looked between the three students, exasperation clear on his face.

 

Finally, his gaze landed on John. “What happened?” He asked.

 

“I’ll tell you what fucking happened-” The other boy started again, but Phillip stomped his foot commandingly. 

 

“I didn’t  _ ask _ you, James.” He gave James a dark look, then turned back to John, and nodded.

 

John bit his lip. “We were just down on the beach when we heard them come out.” He started, his throat suddenly dry. “We heard what sounded like fighting, and that girl protesting, and so we came up to see what as happening. I didn’t see exactly what happened, but she screamed and then when I did make it up, he was holding her by the arm real tight.” His eyes darted to the girl, who looked to be calming down as she spoke to Johnathan and Eliza, holding Eliza’s hand tightly. “We started to argue - everyone’s drunk, everyone’s tired, and then…” John glanced at Alexander, who had taken to studying the floor. “Well, I can’t lie; Alex swung first. I went to check on the girl, and when I turned back he was just wailing on Alexander, so I got involved and… We tried to hold him back, and that’s when you came out.”

 

Phillip studied him a moment, and then nodded. 

 

“James, is that how it happened?”

 

“Damn right! We were just getting frisky out here, when these retards came out of nowhere and started  _ attacking _ -”

 

“James, I don’t know how you expect anyone to take you sincerely when you insist on using outdated derivative language. God, I don’t know how you expect anyone to  _ listen _ when you talk like that.” Phillip shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

After a moment of silence, he turned to Alexander. “Why did you swing?”

 

The other boy met his gaze, a fierce look in his eyes. “He called us faggots. Simple as that.” He turned his gaze to the guy. “And I didn’t like the way he talked to that girl.”

 

“ _ My _ girl! What  _ fucking _ business do you have-?!”

 

“ _ James! _ ” Phillip boomed, drawing the attention even of the dozing couple on the ping pong table. “One more outburst like that and this conversation is going to take on a whole new nature.” He turned back to Alex. “Can you elaborate?”

 

James was glaring daggers at Alexander, who simply stared back resolutely. 

 

“She said  _ wait _ and he responded aggressively. She said  _ no _ and he said to _ shut the fuck up _ .” Alexander’s eyes were icy, dangerous in a way that John had hardly seen anyone look before.

 

Phillip cocked up an eyebrow at this.

 

“We were sweet talking, maybe some harmless banter. You callin’ me some kinda  _ perv _ , kid?” He stalked closer to Alex.

 

“Oh yeah, the sexually assaulting kind.” Alexander returned, his face beginning to darken.

 

“ _ Fuck _ did you just say to me?” James growled, still advancing as Alexander stood his ground.

 

“Gentlemen-” Phillip tried to intervene.

 

“I said you’re a  _ rapist asshole _ .” Alexander intoned, his voice dripping with wrath.

 

“ _ Alexander _ .” Eliza’s light voice had an immediate effect on Alex’s stature, as the small figure drifted toward them.

 

The dark look disappeared from his face, and he turned his gaze from James to his girlfriend.

 

This was short lasted, as James swung at Alexander.

 

Despite his change of stature, Alex was as quick on his feet as ever; he took the blow and returned a swift kick to James’ stomach, which put the other man on the floor.

 

Eliza gasped sharply and drew back, and Phillip put a restraining hand on James’ shoulder, hauling him to his feet and planting himself between the two.

 

Alexander worked his undoubtedly sore jaw a moment, before spitting a bloody mess over the edge of the porch.

 

He shot one more glare at James, before turning to Eliza, his body language totally changing - his movements gentle and small and his eyes soft and welcoming.

 

He placed a soft hand on her arm, and John looked away.

 

Phillip was eyeing James and Alexander both warily, but James shook his head. 

 

“Fuck this. We’re out. Maria!” He shouted, hauling himself up as the girl, still sitting on the ground with Johnathan speaking in hushed tones, looked up. He jerked his head at her. “Great party Phil.” He muttered gruffly, as the girl - Maria, apparently - stood and dusted off her pant legs.

 

Johnathan was speaking to her urgently, as James approached and placed an arm around her shoulder.

 

She shook her head one final time at Johnathan, and the younger Schuyler watched with a mix of emotions on his face as the two left.

 

The air stiller for the absence of the two, John licked his lips before turning to Phillip. “I’m really sorry about all this. We shoulda probably just minded our business, it just seemed-”

 

But Phillip was shaking his head. “Hey, you were doing what you thought was right. James and Maria… They have a complicated relationship. But that isn’t for any of us to try and intervene with.”

 

Alexander had finished smooching with Eliza, and suddenly was looking around.

 

“D’she leave with him?” He asked, his voice holding an edge of alarm.

 

“Yes,” Eliza landed her hand gently on his forearm. “They do live together, after all.”

 

Alexander’s eyes flared with anger, but he said nothing.

 

His lip was beginning to swell, as well as some other bruising beginning to show around his eyes and on his cheeks.

 

Eliza apparently noticed this as well, as she touched a gentle hand to his jaw and muttered something, to which Alexander nodded and the two started inside.

 

Peggy, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet, was looking at John with an expression he couldn’t quite figure the meaning of.

 

“Are you alright Pegs? How much of that did you see?” John asked gently.

 

The young girl smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Enough.” She nodded towards the house. “C’mon, we better get some ice on that mess and some water in you before you pass out.”

 

John was beginning to feel the effects of the fight; his sides, stomach, shoulder and parts of his face beginning to feel sore.

 

John followed her inside. 

 

They made their way to a jack-and-jill bathroom, where Alexander and Eliza took up residence in one side before the mirror, speaking in hushed tones as Eliza tended to him.

 

John and Peggy settled on the other side, John sitting up on the counter as Peggy wet a paper towel and rung it out.

 

John examined his face in the mirror; one of his eyes was swollen slightly, and a dark purple bruise was forming on his jaw. He was also dripping blood from his nostril.

 

Peggy wiped the blood from his nose, and then applied gentle pressure to the sore spot on his jaw. 

 

“You got a little fucked up, eh Sport?” She mused good-naturedly.

 

“Yeah,” John breathed. “A little.” He gazed at Alexander across the room, speaking sweetly and quietly to Eliza, one hand running endlessly up and down her bicep. 

 

When John turned his gaze back to Peggy, she was looking at him with that weird, empathetic look she wore sometimes. 

 

“Stop that.” He uttered whinily, his adrenaline detox slowly lowering him back into inebriation.

 

“What?” She asked, a humorous twinkle in her eyes.

 

“Stop  _ looking _ at me like that.” John clarified, shifting.

 

Her gaze turned more piteous. “Like what?” She asked innocently.

 

“Like  _ that! _ ” John laughed, shoving her playfully. “Like I’m some sorta… Wounded animal or something.”

 

Peggy crossed her arms. “If you wouldn’t wound yourself acting like an animal, I wouldn’t have to.” She pointed out stubbornly, before her expression shifted to one a little more serious. “But you did the right thing.” She said in a lower tone. “James has been asking for it. I just hope…” She chewed her lip, shaking her head.

 

John frowned, stepping back onto the floor to be level with her. “Hope what?”

 

Peggy shook her head. “Nothing.” She dismissed. “So the wedding’s gotta be coming up, right?” She quickly shifted the subject. “When is it again?”

 

John’s excitement about his sister’s wedding pushed the troubled couple out of his mind. “Next weekend. I’m flying out on Friday, and since break is the next week she wants me to come stay with her and see everyone, but…” He hesitated, his mind groggy and the thought of being where his whole family could reach him making him prematurely claustrophobic.

 

“But what?” Peggy coaxed, taking him by the hand and leading him out of the bathroom.

 

“I don’t know, I left a lot of… Weird history behind, and I don’t really know that I’m ready to face that. It’s already going to be hard, the wedding and seeing everybody there, but being down there for that long…” He shook his head. “Guess I’m… Just a little scared is all.” Peggy released his hand to open the freezer.

 

She pulled out a bag of frozen carrots out of the freezer and handed it to him, and when John met her eyes, there was a look of skepticism in them. “Bullshit.” She muttered unexpectedly.

 

John frowned. “What?” 

 

She guided his hand with the carrots up, and John drew them to his sore eye.

 

“I call bullshit. You’re not scared.”

 

John leaned back against the island, cupping the frozen vegetables. “How d’ya figure?” 

 

“What have you got to be scared of? You’re John fuckin’ Laurens. You aren’t scared of teachers, RA’s or your homophobic dad. I don’t buy for a second that there is anything or anyone in South Carolina that could step to John Laurens.”

 

John couldn’t help the light chuckle that escaped his lips at the comment. “You don’t know what kinda shit lies in store down South, Schuyler. Especially for someone like me.”

 

“Someone like you?” Peggy repeated, a dangerous look in her eye.

 

John dropped his hands in front of him and began fiddling with the makeshift ice pack. “You know exactly what I mean.” He muttered.

 

Peggy crossed her arms. “That’s  _ bullshit _ John. You don’t have anything wrong with you.”

 

He turned the bag in his hands. “Obviously not.” He huffed defensively. “Not everyone sees it that way.”

 

“Are you worried about them? Is that what you’re afraid of?” She asked, edging closer as her tone eased up.

 

“No, I just…” John shook his head.

 

“Are you afraid of  _ yourself _ ? What is it you’re trying to say you’re scared of, John?”

 

“I don’t know, I-”

 

“What’s down there?”

 

“Nothing!  _ Nothing _ is down there for me and I… I don’t want to lose sight of everything that’s better for me here.” The realization crashed over him like a breaking wave. “Every _ one _ that’s better here.” John leaned heavily on the counter.

 

Peggy hesitated a moment, as John continued to fiddle with the melting bag in his hands.

 

“So that’s what you’re afraid of.” Her tone wasn’t mocking or belittling, just matter-of-fact. “Losing the life you’re building here?”

 

John shook his head. “I guess I’m not necessarily scared, just… I don’t want to lose sight of what really matters. And South Carolina snow is no joke.” He attempted to lighten the mood and met Peggy’s eyes to find her beaming up at him.

 

“So you don’t wanna forget just how good you’ve got it here.”

 

John nodded, returning the carrots to his eye.

 

“Easy solution; your sister gave you a plus one option, right?”

 

John nodded again. “But I don’t have a date to take.”

 

Peggy pursed her lips. “It couldn’t be that hard to find one.” She pointed out.

 

John shook his head. “That’s dangerous territory, Schuyler. I don’t know about finding a date in a week would give me enough time to figure out if they’d be safe to bring. I’d have to make sure it was someone I could trust, an ally, someone who won’t hog all the cake.” Cake sounded really good at that moment.

 

He wondered absently what kind of cake Martha was going to have at her wedding.

 

He hadn’t thought to ask.

 

“Tell you what; I’ll set you up.” Peggy piped up cheerfully.

 

John frowned. “Sure, Pegs. Good luck with that.”

 

Peggy rolled her eyes. “C’mon!” She punched him playfully in his bruised shoulder, and John recoiled. She winced. “Sorry. But it’ll be fun! You’ll see.”

 

John shook his head. “Not even a miracle matchmaker such as yourself could get me a date like that in a week.”

 

Peggy put her hands on her hips. “Okay, if I can’t find you an eligible bachelor by class on Thursday, I’ll go with you myself.”

 

John pressed his lips together. “I don’t know about flinging myself into a relationship like that right now anyway.”

 

Peggy made an exaggerated gesture like she was thinking really hard, then suddenly nodded. “It doesn’t necessarily have to be in a romantic capacity either. Just someone looking for a good time.”

 

John thought as carefully as he could in the state he was in. “I don’t know Pegs… It’d have to be someone trustworthy, like I said.” 

 

Peggy nodded diligently. “Of course. For you, Laurens, only the best of the best.”

 

John glanced up to see Eliza and Alexander coming out of the bathroom, Alex humming cheerfully as Eliza spoke.

 

He looked so happy with her…

 

“You know what? What the hell. Make it so, Peggy.”

 

“Yes!” She pumped a fist in the air, and John couldn’t help but smile, as he lowered the less-than-frozen carrots and handed them to Eliza.

 

Her hand was soft and warm, and she accepted them with a grateful look.

 

Johnathan and Phillip joined them in the kitchen, both smelling rank with heavily lidded eyes.

 

“Gentlemen.” Eliza greeted, a note of disapproval in her voice.

 

The boys bowed dramatically to her.

 

“Dearest sisters,” Phillip greeted with bravado.

 

“The ever-present light of our lives.” Johnathan finished with a flourish of his hand, before straightening and turning to John. “You still got that roach, or’d you lose in in the tousle?”

 

John checked his pocket and found the little ashy mess still intact.

 

He handed it to Johnathan, who nodded approvingly and placed it delicately into a small ziploc bag.

 

“You about ready to head home, Laurens?” Peggy asked.

 

John nodded, taking a quick inventory of himself; he had his phone and wallet, and his dorm key.

 

He was fairly certain that was all he’d brought. 

 

The youngest in the room hopped down off the counter, glancing around the room.

 

Phillip was watching him benevolently, and gave him a slight nod as he took stock.

 

“I’m sorry again, for all that-” But Phillip was shaking his head.

 

“James is always giving excuses for someone to pop him in the jaw. Just remind me not to take you out drinking, eh junior?” He was smirking good-naturedly, and John was glad his first impression didn’t seem to be ruined. 

 

He nodded, and him and Peggy started towards the door. “Thank you guys, y’all have a nice night now.” He called as they left.

 

Peggy closed the door behind them, and they were nearly to Peggy’s car when the door opened again, and John turned back to see who it was.

 

Alexander stepped out, and John turned back again to see Peggy open her door. “I’ll give you boys some privacy.” She winked, and then sat down into the car and closed her door.

 

John rolled his eyes pointedly at her, and then turned to his friend as he pulled the door closed behind him and made his way over to John.

 

His face was bashful, and this took John slightly by surprise.

 

“What’s up?” John tried to sound casual. 

 

“I just wanted to make sure I thanked you, y’know, for backing me up.”

 

John shook his head. “It’s just luck you got to him first, five more words and I’d be the one looking like my head went through a trash compactor.”

 

Alexander cracked a smile, slightly lopsided because of his swollen lip. “You still look like you took a beating pretty bad. Can you believe you and me together against one guy  _ still _ got both our asses handed to us?”

 

John laughed. “Nah, man, we didn’t lose so bad.”

 

Alexander laughed too, shaking his head. “Maybe from where you’re sitting, but from my seat in the reality section, one guy just took on the both of us and we’re the ones walking away bloody.”

 

John chuckled. “Man, maybe you’re right. We’ll have to get better at ass-kicking if we wanna go forward with this vigilante-duo thing.”

 

Alexander frowned. “What?”

 

“Oh you know,” John shrugged nonchalantly. “Out plan to clean up New York City with our awesome duo-style crime-fighting ass-kicking vigilante team.”

 

Alexander seemed to consider whether John was serious a moment, and upon his cracked smile, busted out laughing.

 

“That’s some of the wildest shit I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, Laurens.” He claimed, miming wiping a tear.

 

John shrugged. “I guess being multiple levels of intoxicated makes me a funny guy.”

 

Alex crossed his arms against the cold and shook his head. “I’d like to see that side of you more often. And I think the kids call it ‘crossfaded’ these days.”

 

John nodded, chuckling. “I’m sure there are a few sides of me you would.” He muttered under his breath.

 

“Hm?” Alexander asked absently.

 

“Nothing.” John returned, his face flushing.

 

Alexander eyed him, but said nothing.

 

“I should go, Peggy’s waiting.” John noted, gesturing to the car.

 

“Yeah, for sure.” Alex returned, straightening.

 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you ‘round.” John made a move toward the other boy, planning on going for a quick hug, and Alexander put up his hand as one would expecting a high five.

 

John stopped, obliged, and Alex nodded with a tight smile and turned back towards the house. “See you ‘round, Laurens!” He called as he pushed open the door and started inside.

 

John turned back to the car, and clambered in.

 

Peggy made a loud wincing sound as she turned over the engine, and then clicked her tongue sympathetically.

 

“What?” He asked defensively.

 

“That was sad, Laurens.” She reclined slightly as the car warmed up. “A real tragedy.”

 

“What was?” John crossed his arms.

 

“That last failed move there. No wonder you were hesitant about getting into the dating pool.” She shifted into reverse and began to back down the driveway, her tone retaining teasing mock sympathy. “Word of advice though: it tends to go better when the guys don’t have girlfriends.”

 

“Oh, get lost Schuyler.” He returned with a laugh.

 

She shrugged, turning back onto the main road. “Not my fault you have bad signal receptors. Girlfriend is usually a pretty solid sign someone isn’t into you.”

 

“Shove it.” John returned, his face heating up.

 

Peggy laughed good-naturedly. “You know I’m just giving you a hard time. Lots of people stay in relationships for reasons that seem totally ridiculous to the rest of us.” Her face fell slightly, as her expression became more serious. “Even if that relationship is blatantly  _ not _ a good match.”

 

Silence passed over them for a few moments, as John watched streetlights go by and mile markers whiz past.

 

“You’re thinking about that girl, huh? Maria?” He asked gently.

 

Peggy’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel, and she gave an almost imperceptible nod.

 

“How long have they been together?” John pressed.

 

“Five years and counting.” She ground her jaw.

 

John frowned. “Wait, how old-?”

 

“She just turned twenty. She was  _ fifteen _ when they got together, he was nineteen.”

 

John shook his head.  _ That poor girl _ , he thought. Though, one couldn’t be too hasty to judge; he didn’t know their story, as well he had no business to.

 

“How long have you known them?” He asked.

 

“Three years I’ve known Maria, I didn’t meet James until it’d been over a year. Now, they go everywhere together. He never lets her out of his sight.” Her voice was hollow and bitter, and the words chilled John to the bone.

 

_ He never lets her out of his sight _ . Some guy he was.

 

“That’s rough.” He muttered weakly.

 

John couldn’t be sure how long silence ensued, before he began to drift off.

 

He checked the time on his phone, to see it was nearly three in the morning. No wonder he was so tired.

 

His head was beginning to ache as well, and he decided he’d be better off if he allowed himself to drift off for the drive.

 

So he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are y'all as relieved that this damn party is over as I am
> 
> Because b o y 
> 
> For a scene that takes course over a couple hours, this felt like it took d a y s
> 
> But anyway, there's that! John is a fool for not just asking dat boi to repeat himself, because now what's he acknowledged that he knows? We'll never know.
> 
> Anyway love y'all! If you liked this chapter shout out to me in the comments! If you have criticism I'm always ready to hear it so just let me know! Till next time!


	18. Sore, Still? Or Need Another?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy
> 
> Did you know you do not have to be a CHILD to get chicken pox? Well my dumbass didn't get it young enough so here I am. I have missed almost all of my finals and am honestly running on spite, cabin fever and waaay too much coffee. That being said, enjoy these boys also running on spite and caffeine XD
> 
> Also - I do NOT speak French. If you have corrections for my shitty, google translate French please don't hesitate to let me know I would love to put something actually coherent there. That being said, translations for the google translate french in this chapter will be in the end notes.

John felt the car slowing to a stop and roused from his slumber, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

 

“Need me to walk you to your dorm?” Peggy asked cheerfully.

 

John shook his head. “That’s alright.” He opened the door. “Thank you for offering though.”

 

He started to climb out, then hesitated. He turned back to Peggy. “Thank you for everything tonight. I hope your brothers and Eliza don’t think I’m crazy or something.”

 

Peggy scoffed. “Don’t even worry about it dude. Most everyone’s taken a drunken swing once or twice at those parties. I’m just glad you guys knew where to aim.” Her face fell slightly. “I just hope Maria is alright.” She admitted.

 

John nodded, and then clambered up out of the car. “Have a good night, Schuyler.” He wished her.

 

“You too, Laurens. Sleep tight, don’t let the midterms bite.”

 

John laughed as he eased the door closed and started towards his building, throwing one last wave over his shoulder to Peggy as he opened the doors and she sped away.

 

As he crept through the dimly lit hallways towards his dorm, John felt a mounting sense of anxiety. The deserted corridors were filled with ominous shadows that caused John to recoil and quicken his steps.

 

He rounded the flight of stairs to his floor, and his dorm came into view.  _ Home stretch. _

 

Just as he was nearing his own door, almost in the safety of his room, a sharp, throat-clearing sound pitched from behind him.

 

John froze. He’d recognize that self-satisfied, pompous throat-clearing anywhere.

 

Resigned, John’s shoulders slumped as he turned around to face the RA.

 

A look of snide confidence was only visible for a moment on Thomas Jefferson’s face before it dissolved into a mix of worry and apprehension. “What happened to you?”

 

John drew a hand to his bruised jaw, and offered only a shrug as a response.

 

Thomas scoffed. “Fine, whatever. You’re breaking curfew either way.” John felt an inexplicable rush of irritation at the words, as the RA drew a small write-up sheet from his back pocket.

 

“Give yourself one of those while you’re at it,  _ you’re _ breaking curfew too.” John snarked, crossing his arms as he waited.

 

Thomas paused in his writing to shoot a glare at John. “The resident advisor has the authority to leave campus restrictions behind in service of persecuting rule-breakers.” He sneered, and returned to writing his write-up.

 

John scoffed, but said nothing more as he waited impatiently.

 

Jefferson tore off the paper and handed it to John, a smug look on his face. “Two more, and that’s detention. Two more after that,  _ permanent suspension _ .” With these threatening words, he stepped back again, and put his hands on his hips. “And uh, any  _ lawbreaking, _ things like underage drinking, pot, on campus is immediate expulsion.” 

 

John glared at the RA, paper crumpling in his clenched fist. “I don’t know why that would be a problem for me.” He claimed surreptitiously, though even with the words the harsh scent of alcohol from his breath reached him.

 

Thomas simply looked at him distastefully. “Either way, you’d better be getting back to that dorm. You’re  _ still _ breaking curfew.”

 

“Oh  _ shove it _ .” John whirled around and marched up to his dorm, turning to glare at Jefferson as he jammed the key into the lock.

 

Thomas was still grimacing at him.

 

John yanked the door open, and Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Real mature, Laurens.” He muttered as he turned around.

 

The anger bubbling in his stomach returned. “That’s  _ real funny _ coming from you!” John hissed back before slamming the door behind him.

 

He winced at the loud noise in the quiet corridor, and then leaned back against the door, closing his eyes against his throbbing head.

 

When he finally opened them, John was startled to see Lafayette sitting up in his bed, watching John closely as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

 

“Shit, man, I’m sorry to wake you.” John glanced at his wall clock to see it was nearly four in the morning. What the hell was Thomas Jefferson doing prowling the halls at four a.m.?

 

Lafayette was shaking his head, a concerned expression drawing across his face. “What was all that noise out there?” He croaked, reaching for the bedside lamp to illuminate the dark room.

 

John shook his head. “Just Thomas fucking Jefferson being his pompous, self-centered-”

 

Lafayette gasped sharply as the light clicked on. “Mon dieu!” He rose from the bed and made his way quickly to John. “What happened to your face, love?” He gingerly reached to touch John’s bruised jaw, from which the younger boy recoiled (as much as one can while backed against a door).

 

Lafayette quickly dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back, muttering an apology. 

 

“But you  _ must _ tell me what has happened.” He commanded.

 

John pressed his lips together, and shook his head. “What does it look like? I got into a fight.”

 

“But with who, mon frere? Not Thomas..?”

 

John shook his head. “No, I doubt he’d return a swing. It was at the Schuylers’ house party.”

 

Lafayette took John by the hand and guided him to Lafayette’s bed, where the two sat. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

 

So John recounted the fight, starting with him and his ‘unnamed compatriot’ under the porch and leaving out the part with the illicit substance and canoodling, ending with Maria and James leaving together.

 

The corner of Lafayette’s mouth twitched upward. “You mean to say this man single-handedly took on you and another man, and won?”

 

John sighed irritably. “That’s exactly what he said.”

 

“The man you were fighting, or the man you were fighting  _ with _ ?” Lafayette pressed.

 

“My friend. No, if James had opened his dumbass mouth more’n he already did, it wouldn’t have been so pretty.” John claimed.

 

When John looked up at Lafayette, the older boy was studying his face, as if trying to take inventory of the marks.

 

John had been in a few fights before. In fact, as a kid, it had been sort of a problem. Realistically, he was proud of himself for not throwing the first punch.

 

Lafayette patted him gruffly on the back. “Well, in my eyes mon frere, you and your friend are honorable for stepping in. However, as it is impossibly late, I would like to return to mes rêves.”

 

John stood from his roomates bed with a nod. “Yeah, sorry to wake you so late.” 

 

Lafayette waved a dismissive hand. “With a story like that ami, wake me any time.” He layed back down and pulled the covers over himself. “Bonne nuit.” 

 

“Bonne nuit.” John returned, as Lafayette clicked off his bedside lamp.

  
  


The next morning, John awoke with his head  _ throbbing _ . He pulled the covers down from over his eyes to see harsh sunlight filtering through the window.  _ Saturday. _ Thank God.

 

With a groan, he pulled the covers back over his head.

 

He was wickedly sore in multiple places, and one eye, he could feel, was badly swollen.

 

After a few moments of laying in bed feeling sorry for himself, John forced the covers off of himself and pushed himself up to a sitting position.

 

He gave a small, sharp gasp as the searing pain in his side made itself known.

 

“ _ Fuck _ .” He muttered distressedly. The young man lifted his shirt to look for the origin of the pain, and revealed a myriad of bruises and discoloration. He gingerly prodded the dark bruise over his right lower ribs, and recoiled in surprise at the intense pain it provoked.

 

With a groan, he forced himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the side of his bed as a wave of nausea passed over him.

 

He shambled over to the kitchen and drew a glass of water, which he quickly downed and replenished.

 

His mouth tasted like stale alcohol and smoke, and he quickly made his way to the bathroom as another crashing wave of nausea had him retching.

 

He hurled into the toilet violently for a few moments, and then sipped the refilled water cup.

 

When he was fairly certain he was done puking, John stood and went to the bathroom counter to retrieve his toothbrush and brush his teeth over the sink.

 

The world reeled slightly, and he steadied himself on the bathroom counter as he finished the second glass of water.

 

He refilled it in the bathroom sink, and quickly downed it again.  _ God _ did his head hurt.

 

John deposited his cup in the sink and made his way back to the bedroom, where he sat on the bed and checked his phone, turning the brightness all the way down.

 

He had a few texts;

 

**From: Lafayette     9:46am**

**Headed to Herc and Alex’s, come down when ur able n recount ur heroic exploits!**

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     10:07am**

**Laf and Alex are going to fight someone. Please come down here when you get the chance #overbeingmomfriend**

 

John couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face at this, as he fired back a quick reply.

 

**To: Lafayette, Hercules Mulligan     10:23am**

**Quick shower, then I’m on my way**

 

He certainly needed that shower too; he was covered in sand and smelled like a distillery.

  
  


A little while later, John knocked on the door to Alexander and Hercules’ dorm, and was met with Lafayette immediately pulling the door open. 

 

“Ami! You seem to have left out a crucial detail about your ‘anonymous friend’ who started that fight last night.” He ushered John inside where he saw Hercules and Alexander sitting on the sofa.

 

John gave a sheepish smile to Lafayette and shrugged. “I don’t wanna go around gossiping about my friends, it’s terrible manners.” He winked.

 

Lafayette shook his head. “Non! Alexander here is a modern hero.” He claimed.

 

Alex made a face like he wasn’t quite so sure about that, but said nothing in return, instead standing and making his way over to the two.

 

“How ya feelin’?” He asked John, regarding his markings.

 

“Hell of a lot better ‘n you, I’d wager.” John managed, as Alexander’s hand lighted over his bruised jaw and John had to resist the urge to shiver at the contact.

 

Alexander’s cheeks colored, and he dropped his hand and his gaze. “Sorry again, for dragging you into that.” He muttered, and John shrugged.

 

“Now I’ve got a drunk fight story, right?” He consoled, playfully punching Alexander in the arm for emphasis.

 

He immediately regretted it when Alex winced and shrunk back. 

 

“Sorry.” He felt his face heat up.

 

“Yeesh, get a room.” Hercules called teasingly from the couch.

 

John shot him a look, but said nothing as Alexander flushed and kept his back to his roommate.

 

Lafayette raised an eyebrow at the two, but said nothing.

 

Hercules, apparently unaware of the awkwardness he’d created, stood from the couch and made his way over to the group. “I know what’ll get you boys outta the dumps; a real, New York breakfast of coffee and the best bagels around.” He grabbed his coat and car keys, and started for the door.

 

John and Alex exchanged a look, and then Alexander shrugged and the group followed Hercules out the door.

 

It had been getting steadily colder in to the school year, and John was grateful for Hercules’ heated car as he sat in the back with Alex.

 

They pulled up to a quaint bagel shop on the outskirts of town, and all clambered out of the car onto the windy sidewalk.

 

John led the way up to the door and held it for the crew, Alexander taking up the rear of the group.

 

When John made to follow the group inside, Alex spun around suddenly and the two nearly collided.

 

Alexander had an inexplicably dark look on his face, and John took an uncertain step back.

 

“They’re here.” Alex said under his breath, so that only John heard.

 

“What? Who?” John asked, and Alex gestured in the direction of a table near the front and to the right of the doors, where a couple sat.

 

John looked at the couple for a moment as recognition dawned on him.

 

“Oh for-” He drew a hand to the bridge of his nose. 

 

Sitting at the table where Alexander had indicated, looking at least as roughed up as the two boys, was the the man named James.

 

Maria sat across from him, sporting her own bruise on her cheek as the two conversed quietly.

 

John clenched and unclenched his fists. Why today?

 

John moved his hand, as if casually, to conceal his face and started towards the counter where Hercules and Lafayette were looking at the other boys inquisitively.

 

“You alright amis?” Lafayette asked when they approached.

 

John worked his sore jaw, but nodded. “See the couple sitting by the door? Lookin’ real beat up?”

 

Lafayette looked past John and nearing Alexander to the table, and nodded, realization seeming to dawn on him as his eyes went wide. “That isn’t-?”

 

But John was nodding, making carefully sure to keep his back to them.

 

Hercules looked from Alexander, to John, to the couple, and then nodded his understanding as a mischievous smile crept onto his face.

 

“There’s that fight you were looking for so hard, Gilbert.” He chuckled.

 

Lafayette raised his eyebrows. “Alas, is not my fight to start dearest.” 

 

John shook his head. “No one is starting a fight. We’re just going to sit way over in that corner, and keep our mouths shut.”

 

Hercules and Lafayette nodded their understanding, but Alexander was watching the couple, his jaw working and his knuckles white.

 

John risked lighting a hand on his shoulder, which sufficiently drew his attention back to the group. “We on the same page?” He asked.

 

“About what?” Alex turned his glare back on the couple.

 

“No one is starting a fight.” 

 

The older boy’s eyes suddenly snapped to John, and he clenched his jaw.

 

He threw a pleading look to the other two, but when they said nothing, he crossed his arms with a final glare in the direction of James and Maria, and then sighed.

 

“Fine. No  _ starting _ fights. Doesn’t mean if something happens, we can’t finish it.” 

 

John was adequately appeased with this answer, and nodded as he dropped his hand from Alexander’s shoulder back to his side. “Good. Now let’s get some coffee and bagels before my head explodes.”

 

The group ordered and found themselves a table in a corner far from their acquaintances from the night before.

 

John and Alexander positioned themselves with their backs to the inner cafe.

 

John’s head was still throbbing, and he dropped it into his hands as they waited for the barista to call their number.

 

His eye was sore as well, and he resisted the urge to touch it as the room pulsed in and out of focus. Man, he needed some water.

 

“Three-nineteen.” Came a vaguely familiar baritone voice.

 

John lifted his head to see Hercules quickly stand and head towards the counter, where the barista was strikingly familiar.

 

The man looked up, met John’s eyes and his expression turned to recognition.

 

He gave a slight nod, and John returned with an awkward wave and what he hoped came across as a kind smile.

 

Hercules glanced in John’s direction as he collected the coffee and bagels, and then his gaze fell to the barista’s nametag. John couldn’t quite make out what it said.

 

Hercules thanked the barista and started back towards the table, a puzzled look on his face.

 

“Is that the guy?” He muttered as he resumed his seat at the table.

 

“Huh?” John asked ineloquently.

 

“The barista, James.” The name struck a chord with John. “Is that the guy from the party?”

 

“No.” Alex jerked his head in the direction of the couple they’d noted earlier. “That is.”

 

“I also met that James at the party. He’s Johnathan and Phillip’s friend.” John explained.

 

Alexander nodded his understanding. “Johnathan and Phillip are the Schuyler brothers.” he elaborated.

 

Hercules and Lafayette seemed to follow.

 

John shook his head. “I don’t know how he made it to work at this time. I would probably cry if I had any commitments today that required that much energy.”

 

“He probably didn’t stick around ‘till three in the morning to get his ass kicked either.” Hercules pointed out teasingly.

 

John laughed with them despite his pounding head.

 

He took a sip of his hot coffee and pulled his jacket tighter against the cold. Why it was so chilly inside this cafe in mid November he couldn't say.

 

The boys talked and laughed, making it easy for John to drop his guard. 

 

“I'm gonna use the restroom, be right back.” He excused himself when sufficient time had passed for him to finish his coffee.

 

He made his way to the far end of the cafe, paying no heed to the couple situated near the door.

 

He walked into the bathroom, allowing the door to fall shut behind him, and started towards a urinal.

 

Someone else came in behind him, and initially John paid them no mind.

 

Then he heard the lock click.

 

Quickly redoing his fly, John turned with well-placed apprehension to see James - the one with a fat lip and bruises peppering his jaw, as well as a busted nose, standing protectively in front of the door.

 

John's breath caught in his throat, his anxiety mounting.

 

The two stood in silence for a moment, before James began towards him sending John’s heart thudding against his ribs.

 

“Hey, what uh, what seems to be the problem?” John managed, cursing himself for the shakiness of his voice.

 

“What’s the problem? The problem is you and your  _ faggot _ friend jumping me. The  _ problem _ is that boyfriend of yours talkin’ shit. The  _ problem _ is  _ you _ talking up my girl!”

 

John drew his fists defensively up before his face as James lunged.

 

John dodged his initial strike by throwing himself to the side, managing a sharp jab to James’ ribs on his way.

 

Now, sober and on edge, John could see the guy didn’t really know what he was doing; he was relying on his size and strength to win, throwing his weight around willy-nilly.

 

John could use that to his advantage.

 

James had spun on him, and was stalking towards him again, rolling up his sleeves as if for dramatic effect.

 

“Hey man, we can talk about this-” James swung again for John’s face, and the younger man ducked and dug his shoulder into James’ sternum.

 

The larger figure stumbled back, but wasn’t as affected as John had expected; he managed to snag John by the ear with one hand and delivered a sharp strike with the other, straight on.

 

John’s vision went red as he let out a yelp in reaction to the searing pain that tore across his face.

 

He immediately drew a hand to his nose and was met with another swift blow to the side of his head, causing his ears to ring.

 

It dawned on him that he was losing, and panic began to rise in his chest. He needed to get out of this bathroom.

 

John ducked low and drove one shoulder in to James’ chest, while hooking behind his leg with one of John’s own.

 

In the desired outcome, this sent the larger man to the floor and knocked the wind out of him.

 

John made a beeline for the locked door, and was holding the handle reaching for the lock when a strong arm snaked around his neck.

 

He drove a sharp elbow backwards, which hardly seemed to deter the other man.

 

There was a sharp pounding at the door, and John managed to kick it in response.

 

James’ grip tightened despite John’s thrashing efforts to throw him off.

 

The lock to the door began to rattle, as John’s vision was tunneling. 

 

In a last-ditch effort, John threw all of his weight backwards and was pleasantly surprised when it worked; both men went tumbling to the ground, just as the door burst open.

 

John landed on top of James and his grip immediately released, in which time John threw himself to his feet and backed a sufficient distance from the other man and took inventory of the room.

 

In the doorway stood a woman with a set of keys. Surrounding were Hercules, Alex, Lafayette, Maria and a few other interested onlookers.

 

John wiped a hand over his mouth, glancing sheepishly between his friends and the employee.

 

James hauled himself to his feet and glared around.

 

After a moment of tense silence, he stalked up to John. 

 

“This isn’t over.” He muttered through gritted teeth, his breath hot on John’s face.

 

He shoved his way through the crowd, put an aggressive arm around Maria’s shoulder, and left the store.

 

The crowd of onlookers stayed a moment, and began muttering amongst themselves as the couple left.

 

Hercules turned to face them and put his hands in the air. “Alright folks, you’ve got your crazy facebook story, move along.” When they didn’t immediately react, he lowered his hands to his hips, and said a little more firmly, “Go on, tend to your own business.”

 

The crowd then dispersed, and John quickly approached the woman with the keys. “I’m awfully sorry about all that, I don’t mean to cause any trouble.” He felt a cold trickle below his nose, and reached up to feel sticky blood.

 

The woman looked at him skeptically. “I run a simple business, we don’t want any trouble ‘round here. No… Territory issues.”

 

The words echoed in John’s head hollowly, as he tried to figure the meaning behind them. It must have shown on his face, because her expression softened slightly.

 

“Just don’t let me catch you fightin’ in my cafe again, son. And if I were you, I’d go to the cops.” She hooked the heavy key-ring onto her belt, and turned and walked away.

 

John tasted the blood on his split lip, then drew a hand to his ever-throbbing head.

 

He didn’t notice Alexander easing closer to him until he placed a hand on John’s chin and lifted it to inspect the damage. “Looks like you might’ve broken your nose.” He commented, before trailing a hand along John’s already bruised jaw and sending electricity coursing through his veins.

 

Alex seemed to take note of their present company, as he withdrew with a pink tint to his cheeks, cracking a smile. “Guess you didn’t need me to get into a fight. Did it all on your own this time.” He teased. 

 

John rolled his eyes, starting towards the sinks. “I didn’t even  _ do _ anything. Man, I know that guy’s friends with Phil and Johnathan but he is ten kindsa crazy.” He shook his head, running some paper towels under the faucet.

 

“What even happened? He just jumped you in the bathroom?” Lafayette asked, anxiety and excitement apparent in his voice.

 

John dabbed at his bloody nose and examined himself in the mirror. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know if you can call it ‘jumped’; he didn’t have any weapons and I knew he was coming. But he basically was going off about how we humiliated him, and I guess he got it in his head that I was talking to Maria too friendly or somethin’. I dunno, but I’ll tell you what - the guys a head case.” he finished.

 

He thought he looked rather like hell; his hair was tousled from the scuffle, his face was now more bruised and he sported a fresh split about halfway down the bridge of his nose.

 

He raised a hand and pressed experimentally against the side of his nose, immediately regretting it as the sharp pain flashed across his visage.

 

“ _ Hot _ damn,” He muttered, as Hercules moved closer to inspect the wound.

 

Hercules’ rough hand on John’s jaw, opposingly to Alexander’s, didn’t make him feel anything.

 

He logged that information away.

 

Hercules inspected the nose carefully, and began nodding slowly. “Yep, looks broken.” He concurred with Alex.

 

John nodded; he’d arrived at the same conclusion. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He commented.

 

This earned a melodramatic gasp from Lafayette, who fanned himself precociously. “Do tell.” He pressed.

 

John shook his head. “Nothing crazy, just that I used to get into a lot of fights. I’ve broken my nose, my jaw, arms and legs out the wazoo.” He shrugged.

 

Lafayette whistled impressedly. “I have a hard time believing that of you, mon frere.” He admitted.

 

John turned to face him, frowning and crossing his arms over his chest. “Why’s that?”

 

Lafayette raised his hands in mock surrender. “No particular reason, just… Doesn’t seem like you.”

 

John narrowed his eyes. “How so?”

 

Lafayette shrugged. “You just don’t come across as… Short tempered.”

 

Hercules nodded. “Yeah, you seem like a thinker, not a fighter.”

 

John scoffed. “Obviously I’m not much of either, if experience is any indicator.” He started towards the door, the others following him back out into the lobby and then back to their table.

 

Folks around the shop watched them, and many muttered amongst themselves.

 

The group decided it was best to simply take their leave, returning to their dorms.

 

So they left. The car ride was long and quiet, all four boys deep in thought. 

 

Though he refused to allow it to show, John was really shaken by what had happened. What if the owner of the shop hadn’t gotten to the door so swiftly? What if James had had just a few more moments, long enough to finish what he’d started?

 

Realistically, he didn’t think the man was out to kill him. He did, however, think him loosely fastened in the head and certainly capable of it.

 

As they pulled up to the dorm buildings parking garage, John's phone began to buzz in his pocket.

 

He excused himself as he stood out of the car, stretched, and checked his caller ID; Martha.

 

“Hey Marty.” He greeted affectionately.

 

“ _ Hey! John - glad I caught you.” _ She sounded frazzled. _ “I wanted to ask about your paper invite? You never sent it in and we've been trying to work out the numbers thing-” _

 

“Shoot, sorry about that-”

 

“ _ Don't worry about it now, I just need to know if you're bringing a plus one.” _

 

John hesitated, remembering vaguely the agreement he'd made with Peggy Schuyler the night before. “Uh, yeah. Yes, put me down for plus one.”

 

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “ _ Alright Johnny, that’s awesome. _ ” Her voice was weird, and John didn’t like it.

 

“Yeah, for sure. Did you need anything else?” He opted for asking.

 

She hummed for a moment. “ _ Nope, that’s all. Unless you wanna tell me about this date you’re bringing. _ ” 

 

John shook his head. “It’s kinda… Complicated.”

 

Again, Martha was silent a moment. “ _ Okay Johnny, whatever you say. I gotta take off, but enjoy your secrets in the meantime. I’ll see you on Friday, and I can’t wait to meet him!” _ With that, the line clicked dead.

 

John shook his head. “Me too.” He muttered, before turning back to his waiting friends who seemed at the height of a heated discussion.

 

Lafayette was crossing his arms and shaking his head as Hercules spoke.

 

“You haven’t even  _ seen _ it, how can you be so opposed?” The oldest of the group was saying.

 

“And it’s like, the most iconic movie of all time!  _ Every _ line is deserves a nod, and everyone in America references them on the daily so it’ll make your life a little easier.” Alexander argued fervently, gesturing madly with his hands.

 

“What does every American reference on the daily? I’d love to know.” John chimed in as he approached.

 

“The Princess Bride.” Hercules informed him.

 

John looked from Hercules, to Alexander, to Lafayette, and then shook his head slowly. “Never heard of it.” He admitted.

 

Alexander’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” He threw his hands in the air dramatically. “Is there no hope left for humanity?”

 

John couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at the gesture. “I’m betting it’s one of those nerdy movies from the 80’s that every nerd  _ swears _ everyone has seen-”

 

“No you don’t  _ understand _ . We’ll just have to correct this absolute sacrilege to modern American culture. We’re having a movie night.” Alexander sounded resolved, though the concept had John admittedly uneasy.

 

“Absolutely not!” Lafayette was shaking his head again. “Je ne peux pas croire que vous soyez des idiots qui essayent de me soumettre à cette torture. Américains fous et votre goût étrange! I  _ refuse  _ to sit through an hour and a half of  _ Chris Sarandon- _ ”

 

“He’s not even a main character!” Alexander huffed. “He’s the  _ bad guy _ , the whole point is that you hate him. And how does Wallace Shawn not  _ totally _ make up for it anyway?”

 

“Wallace Shawn, that’s the little guy right?” Hercules asked.

 

Alex nodded. “Vizzini. And for your information,” He turned back to Lafayette. “Certains d'entre nous, ‘américains fous’, parlent aussi le français. Et vous ne pouvez pas dire ce que vous voulez, simplement parce que vous pensez que nous ne vous comprenons pas.”

 

Lafayette flushed slightly, but his face didn’t falter. “Je ne regrette rien.”

 

John wished he’d taken french.

 

“Gentlemen, while this is all very entertaining, I’d like to make it back to my dorm at some point this year.” Hercules pointed out.

 

Alexander pursed his lips, but nodded.

 

The group made their way up the many flights of stairs and to Hercules and Alexander’s floor.

 

The boys trailed into the room, afternoon setting in over them, and began to settle; Lafayette sat on Hercules’ bed, Alexander in his desk chair, and Hercules on the loveseat.

 

John sat opposite Hercules and pulled his socked feet onto the couch.

 

Alexander and Lafayette returned to their debate, and John allowed his mind to wander.

 

He absently wished Alexander would be his date to the wedding.

 

The thought of the two of them, Alexander looking classy in a suit with his hair neat, that stupid goofy smile he put on when he was nervous absolutely lighting up the room, made John long for the closeness they'd shared on a few occasions.

 

He pondered the scenario of candlelight and gentle music, the two swaying intimately…

 

“John?”

 

The student was jolted from his reverie by Lafayettes inquiring tone.

 

“Hm?” He managed smartly.

 

“How ya feelin’ buddy? Get whiplash from coming back to reality so fast?” Hercules teased.

 

John kicked him good-naturedly. “ _ Sorry _ ,” He said it in a way that didn’t sound sorry at all. “Guess I just have a lot on my mind.” His eyes darted up to Alexander, who was watching him with an odd mix of emotions on his face.

 

He took in his the older student; hair frizzy from running his fingers through it, jaw a painful myriad of purple and black bruising, his lips dry and splitting.

 

Honestly, the beat up look on him was… kind of hot.

 

As soon as John had that thought, he pulled his phone from his pocket and rolled his eyes at the still quiet room, before turning them to the screen and expertly feigning his nonchalance as he scrolled through social media.

 

“A lot on your face too.” Lafayette teased, standing and making his way over to John, who dropped his feet to the floor to make room for the Frenchman. “Let me get a closer look at that…”

 

John rolled his eyes again as he dropped his phone into his lap, allowing Lafayette to gingerly prod at his fresh bruising.

 

He winced frightfully as his roommate touched a particularly sore spot, and when he opened his eyes he couldn’t help but look at Alex, perched on the leather chair, eyes still troubled and still, inexplicably, fixed on John.

 

He really hoped whatever had been said the night of the fight didn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

  
  


The group lounged around the dorm for most of the afternoon, fading into evening as they traded stories and jokes, held spirited debates about the quality of many films, and all got to know each other.

 

It was around three that Lafayette’s phone rang in his pocket, and the room fell silent.

 

“Bonsoir.” He answered hesitantly.

 

As tinny, rushed French crackled over the speaker, his face went dark.

 

“Pardon moi s'il te plait.” He said flatly into the phone, before covering the receiver and standing. “I have to take this, sorry guys it shouldn’t be too long.”

 

Hercules brow furrowed as he caught Lafayette by the hand before he made it to the door. “Everything alright?” He asked.

 

Lafayette gave a slight huff and shrugged one shoulder, before continuing out the door. “Elle ne dit que pour attirer l'attention. Si tu m'avais écouté…” The sound became muffled as the door fell shut behind him.

 

“Hm. Wonder who he’s talking about.” Alex commented.

 

“You don’t know he’s talking  _ about _ anyone.” John pointed out, drawing his gaze from the door to the older student, who frowned.

 

“He said ‘she’s just doing it for attention’.” He raised an eyebrow, an almost indiscernible smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as John remembered his friends earlier exchange with the Frenchman.

 

“Do you really speak french, or just know how to say certain stuff?” John asked skeptically

 

Alex threw a smoulder his way. “Je parle de nombreuses façons dont vous n'avez pas rêvé, ma chère. Et tu es mignon quand tu es choqué.”

 

“Okay, cool it guys.” Hercules shook his head. “John, do not get him started in French. He will  _ never _ shut up.”

 

Alex turned the look on Hercules. “Tu sais que tu aimes le son de ma voix, mon amour.”

 

John snickered. “Okay, I don’t have to speak French to know  _ mon amour _ means  _ my love _ .”

 

Hercules dropped his head back against the sofa, drawing his hands up to his face and running them down it again. “Good God John, you’ve created a monster.”

 

Alexander laughed. “Vous pourriez bénéficier d'un peu plus de culture vous-même. Apprendre une nouvelle langue est en fait un très bon moyen de se connecter et vous êtes celui avec le petit ami français-”

 

“Alexander, vous êtes un connard.” John cut him off, unable to help his mischievous smile as Alexander looked shocked and offended.

 

Alex cocked his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Tu parle français?”

 

John shook his head. “Lafayette just taught me a few, choice phrases.”

 

Hercules laughed quietly to himself in the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo  
> It's going doown  
> Who is Lafayette talking about? What did Alexander have John promise? Who's finna be John's date to the wedding? Is James gonna cause more problems? You'll just have to stick around to find out!
> 
>  
> 
> __**French Translations:** **  
> **  
> Mon dieu -my God  
>  **Mes rêves** \- my dreams  
>  **Mon frere** \- my brother  
>  **(argument about the movie)**  
>  **Je ne peux pas croire que vous soyez des idiots qui essayent de me soumettre à cette torture. Américains fous et votre goût étrange** \- I can not believe you are idiots trying to subject me to this torture. Crazy Americans and your strange taste  
>  **Certains d'entre nous, ‘américains fous’, parlent aussi le français. Et vous ne pouvez pas dire ce que vous voulez, simplement parce que vous pensez que nous ne vous comprenons pas.** \- Some of us, 'crazy Americans', also speak French. And you can not say what you want, just because you think we don't understand you.  
>  **Je ne regrette rien** \- I regret nothing.  
>  **(Lafayette's phone call)**  
>  **Pardon moi s'il te plait **\- Please pardon me  
> ****  
>  **Si tu m'avais écouté...** \- If you had listened to me...  
>  **(Alexander to John/Herc)**  
>  **Je parle de nombreuses façons dont vous n'avez pas rêvé, ma chère. Et tu es mignon quand tu es choqué** \- I speak in many ways you haven't dreamed, my dear. And you're cute when you're shocked.  
>  **Tu sais que tu aimes le son de ma voix, mon amour** \- You know you love the sound of my voice, my love.  
>  **Vous pourriez bénéficier d'un peu plus de culture vous-même. Apprendre une nouvelle langue est en fait un très bon moyen de se connecter et vous êtes celui avec le petit ami français-** \- You could benefit from a little more culture yourself. Learning a new language is actually a very good way to connect and you are the one with the French boyfriend-  
>  **  
> ******  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> **And finally, my favorite;  
>  ** _vous êtes un connard_** _\- you are an asshole_**  
>  **


	19. Trembling with Anticip...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning of his flight, meaning also the morning he is to meet his mystery date. All of this is causing his mounting anxiety, but nothing better for the relief than to distract yourself until the nasty moment is upon you.  
> And, his 'mystery' date may not be so mysterious after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting quicker I promise ^^'  
> Our Johnny boy is in for it.
> 
> Make sure your harnesses are secure, please keep ALL extremities inside the vehicle at ALL TIMES, and get ready as the ride is about to commence.

 

The rest of the week flew by, and before John knew it he was waking Friday morning to prep for his last class before his flight.

 

He didn’t have class until noon, but awoke promptly at seven and found himself unable to fall back asleep.

 

Two plane tickets sat hauntingly on his desk, and he was to find out who his mystery date was from Peggy in class.

 

He wasn’t ready.

 

In fact, he was crazy nervous.

 

With a groan, he rolled over and pulled the covers back over his head.

 

There was a low laugh from somewhere to his right, and John froze, wondering from whom the voice had originated.

 

Lafayette’s voice wasn’t that deep.

 

He heard a sharp blow, and then more laughter as well as shushing.  _ That _ sounded like Lafayette.

 

John sat up, throwing the covers off himself to look over to Lafayette’s bed, where two forms came into focus in the dim light.

 

They were facing each other, hunched close, and John’s brain took a moment to discern the two separate forms.

 

“Oh, gross!” He threw his pillow at Hercules and Lafayette, who were now both laughing in full force.

 

“Hey, hey stand down!” Lafayette managed between wheezing laughter.

 

“Why  _ here _ ? Alex ain’t ever even home, y’all can’t take your hanky-panky over there?” John muttered groggily, rubbing his eyes and stretching.

 

Lafayette rolled his eyes, throwing John’s pillow back to him. John caught it easily and raised an eyebrow.

 

Hercules was laughing harder after John had spoken, so John turned his inquiring look on his friend. “What?”

 

Hercules caught his breath. “Your southerner really comes out in the morning, you know that?”

 

John rolled his eyes and shook his head, betrayed by the smile creeping onto his face.

 

“Your insufferable really comes out in the morning, you know that?” He imitated good-naturedly.

 

Lafayette snorted and the three boys descended into laughter again.

 

“What are you idiots doing up so early anyway?” He asked accusatorily.

 

Hercules and Lafayette exchanged a look, and then Hercules shrugged. “We haven’t been to sleep.” He admitted.

 

John made a face, to which Lafayette looked in the utmost offended. “Not like  _ that _ , creep!” He returned, and a look of realization crossed Hercules’ face.

 

He scrunched his nose disapprovingly. “Relationships are about more than just sex, John.”

 

“Please, I do  _ not _ want to have this conversation at seven-thirty in the morning. Or, really, at all.” John assured him, hauling himself to his feet. “I’m gonna take a shower. Whatever y’all  _ are _ up to, just keep it off my bed.” He teased, in response to which Lafayette chucked his own pillow - which John narrowly dodged - at his head.

 

“Oh yeah, you gotta get ready to meet your  _ date _ .” Lafayette emphasized the last word with a sing-song note.

 

John ignored him as he opened a dresser drawer and rifled for a semi-presentable shirt. Why didn’t he own any button-ups?

 

With a sigh, he settled on a plain T-shirt and jeans and made his way to the bathroom.

  
  


When John came out of the bathroom about half an hour later, Lafayette and Hercules were nowhere to be seen.

 

John pulled the open suitcase from beneath his bed, checked and rechecked it’s contents, and then packed in his toothbrush and toothpaste, hairbrush, and phone charger.

 

He looked down on it, the magnitude of where he’d be tonight crashing down over him yet again.

 

_ Breathe _ , he reminded himself.

 

There was so much in South Carolina that he’d been sure he’d put behind himself. John Laurens was nothing if not confrontational, and yet the idea of being back there, amongst all those people,  _ against _ all those people, scared him out of his mind.

 

He rechecked the contents of his suitcase one last time, casting a cursory glance over his neatly lain tuxedo, within it’s dry-cleaning bag along the bottom of his suitcase, before sighing and sitting back on his haunches.

 

He pulled his phone from his pocket, and shot a text to Peggy.

 

**To: Peggy Schuyler     8:12am**

**Can I get a name to start with?**

 

His nerves were shot. Beyond the prospect of being at the wedding, in South Carolina, surrounded by ghosts of his past, John was going to have to face that reality at the side of someone he had yet to even meet.

 

He hoped Peggy was as good a judge of character as she seemed, and that his own ambivalence wouldn’t scare off whoever it was she’d chosen.

 

Why had he agreed to this in the first place? 

 

Anxiety swam hot and invasive through his mind, interrupted by the buzzing of his phone.

 

**From: Peggy Schuyler     8:14am**

**I think you’ll find him pleasantly familiar. Remember you said it didn’t need to be romantic. He may have a girlfriend, but I think you’ll find his presence immensely comforting nonetheless**

 

John frowned, anxiety mounting. Why was she being cryptic that way? And who could she be talking about?

 

A thought careened like an out of control semi into his state of mind, causing a whirlwind of raucous emotions that sent his mind back into a frenzy.

 

No way she could mean who he thought - dared to hope - she meant.

 

**To: Peggy Schuyler     8:16am**

**??? Ur srs?? Who?**

 

He waited impatiently for his phone to buzz again, his mind still racing with the prospective meaning of the text. There was only one male friend John really had, who he knew to have a girlfriend.

 

It occurred to John that the youngest Schuyler could merely be referring to one of her brothers, and this thought calmed him slightly.

 

He wasn’t sure he could handle the other option.

 

His phone buzzed.

 

**From: Peggy Schuyler     8:17am**

**You’ll see. <3 See you at class!**

 

John stared at the screen, anxiety morphing into astonishment.

 

**To: Peggy Schuyler     8:17am**

**You’re a bully Margeurita Schuyler. See you <3**

 

He still had four hours to blow until class. He had a feeling they’d be the longest four hours of his life.

 

He pulled his phone back out, composing another text.

 

**To: Alexander Damnilton     8:18am**

**Hey, I’m bored. You doing anything? Also did Laf and Herc dip to your place?**

 

John stood from the floor, tossing his suitcase closed and zipping it if for no other reason than to busy his hands.

 

If he couldn’t get Peggy to spill, he’d just have to see Alexander and determine if anything was off. Alexander seemed always to wear his heart on his sleeve, so John doubted it’d even be much work to get the information from him, if it was indeed as he feared(hoped?).

 

The reply came in record time.

 

**From: Alexander Damnilton     8:19am**

**While I’m greatly sympathetic to the state of your being, I’m afraid I’m at the moment in a position inhibiting me from either answering your second question nor appeasing the appeal of the first, as I’m at the Schuylers and not in my own ‘place’, as semantics would have it.**

 

John read the text over, deciphering it’s contents. He couldn’t help but shake his head. Wordy bastard.

 

**To: Alexander Damnilton     8:20am**

**Aight then. No p, see ya in class**

 

_ Ugh _ .

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     8:22am**

**Where’d y’all run off to?**

 

He began scrolling aimlessly through social media, hoping to distract himself from the incessant anxiety building an awkward picture of a two-hour flight beside Alexander, followed by a week of him fawning over Alex while trying to escape the untenable reality that  _ Alex has a girl. _

 

A notification popped up for another text.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     8:24am**

**We figured we’d get our gay up outta your face and headed back to my place lol. Need something?**

 

John pursed his lips.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     8:25am**

**Psshh I was just givin y’all a hard time. And no, just bored and anxious abt this mystery date**

 

John had told Lafayette of his arrangement with Peggy, and though he hadn’t told Hercules directly he was confident in the Frenchman’s relay habits.

 

His phone buzzed almost immediately.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     8:25am**

**Come watch Princess Bride w us if u can handle it**

 

John felt a smile creep onto his face. 

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan      8:26am**

**Omw**

 

He grabbed his messenger bag, checking that the right books for his class today were within, and made for Hercules and Alexander’s dorm.

  
  


When he reached the door, before he even knocked Hercules’s voice boomed from inside; “It’s open!”

 

John, impressed with the timing, turned the handle tentatively and walked right in.

 

Hercules and Lafayette were on the sofa, wrapped in a shared blanket, a laptop balanced on Hercules’ lap.

 

The latter patted the empty seat beside him, and John settled in. “Alex seemed pretty psyched for us to see this, we aren’t liable to his presence are we?” He’d meant it as a half joke, but Lafayette was shaking his head.

 

He waved a hand as if dismissing the thought of Alexander. “Petit lion is quite the connoisseur of film, but I’d rather watch the movie for myself first without his, eh, commentary.” 

 

John felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. “I see.”

 

“Okay, lets go.” Hercules played the movie, and a video game screen panned out to a boy in bed, as his assumed Grandpa came into the room and the movie commenced.

 

True to tale, the movie was really good; the three boys gave light commentary on some parts, Lafayette and John both occasionally asking questions of Hercules who was quick to answer.

 

Hercules also sprinkled trivia here and there - “Wallace Shawn had a lot of anxiety about filming.”, “Andre the Giant could supposedly put away three bottles of cognac and twelve bottles of wine and barely hit the tipsy mark.”, etc. - and by the time the credits rolled, John couldn’t restrain himself from applauding quietly.

 

Lafayette seemed to agree on the appropriacy of this course of action.

 

John glanced at the analogue clock on the wall despite himself, and found it to be only ten twenty.

 

Hercules slapped him on the back roughly, and John startled.

 

When the younger student turned to face him, Hercules was shaking his head. 

 

“John, sometimes I think you spend more time in your own head than in reality. So, what’d you think?” This last part was directed to both of them.

 

“Magnifique.” Lafayette praised. “And it certainly was satisfying to see Chris Sarandon lose.”

 

John snorted out a laugh at that. “Yeah. And you can’t really go wrong with Wallace Shawn. I mean, Grand Nagus is brought to life by his personality alone.”

 

Lafayette looked confused, but Hercules nodded. One of the original things they’d bonded over online had been Star Trek, after all.

 

“ _ Ugh _ ,” John drew a hand to his face. “But I still can’t stop thinking about my stupid mystery date. I shouldn’t have subjected myself to this.”

 

“Do you know anything about your date?” Lafayette prodded.

 

John chewed his lip. “Well, Peggy told me this morning it’s someone I know who has a girlfriend - we had previously agreed it didn’t need to be someone romantically available. But that doesn’t make me feel any better, all it does is drive my anxiety with more questions.” He admitted, considering his friends respective faces.

 

The couple exchanged a glance, and then looked back to John with matching mixed emotions.

 

“I know,” John commented. “That was my first thought. But she  _ knows _ that there’s something there, so I don’t think she’d-”

 

“Unless that’s precisely the point.” Lafayette suggested, quirking up an eyebrow. “Does she know what’s happened between you two?”

 

John looked down, and Hercules frowned.

 

“Wait, does  _ Eliza _ know what’s happened between you?” He asked indignantly.

 

John gave a slight shake of his head, not looking up.

 

Hercules placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing the younger boy’s gaze to his face. “John, you  _ can’t _ go with him.”

 

John pressed his lips together. “Herc, the flight is  _ today _ . Whoever Peggy’s found, there’s no changing plans now. Even if…” He didn’t think it necessary to finish that sentence.

 

Cold silence descended, and John returned his gaze to his lap, where he twiddled his thumbs absently.

 

“But regardless, nothing is going to happen. If he is coming, it’s going to be very clear from the outset that… I mean, that shouldn’t even have to be  _ said _ really-”

 

“But it  _ does _ need to be.” Hercules said firmly. “Right?”

 

John met his eyes briefly, noting for the first time Lafayette’s uncharacteristic silence.

 

He cast a glance to the Frenchman, who was studying him.

 

“R-right.” John managed, giving his roommate an inquisitive look. 

 

“John, does Alexander love this girl?” Came Lafayette’s soft, belated interjection.

 

John, taken aback by the question, hesitated. “That’s not… I mean, really, honestly? I have no idea. I mean…” The answer was glaringly clear.

 

Not explicit but implicit; demonstrated by his soft touches, the way his face lit up when even speaking of her, the tone he took on when recounting their interactions, the troubled look he got when he and John interacted in ways that weren’t appropriate for someone in a relationship with another girl.

 

The answer was there, staring up at him and yet everything in John screamed against it, against the odds, against everything.

 

He thought back to the party, the way Eliza’s soft words and affectionate touches had immediately calmed a heated Alexander and drawn him into a new kind of person, a gentle form of his being John had never seen before.

 

He hadn’t realized he’d been so lost in thought until his eyes began to burn, and he quickly drew himself back to the present.

 

Both older boys were watching him as John slowly nodded, blinking his eyes dry but still not looking up at them. “Yeah,” He rasped unsteadily. “Yeah I think he does.”

 

Lafayette nodded slowly. “Je suis désolé, John. We’ll just have to pray the youngest Schuyler was not speaking of our dear Alexander after all.”

 

John let out a groan, leaning back into the couch and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, if as much to remove any traces of his near crying experience. “ _ God _ I’m over it. College is too much, I wanna go back to high school.”

 

Hercules snorted. “Was it really any better?” He asked incredulously.

 

John let out a small laugh at that. “Nope. Definitely worse. Let’s go forward instead; skip the college part, go right to medical school.”

 

“How is medical school with a bunch of snooty doctors in training gonna be any better than college with your awesome friends and roommate?” Lafayette asked, mock offense in his voice.

 

John smiled despite himself. “‘Cause I won’t have time to worry about all this bullshit, it’ll just be a lot of hard work and then I graduate. No time for stupid social nonsense.”

 

Hercules scoffed. “Sorry to disrupt your fantasy, but you bet your ass there’ll always be guys out there who aren’t available that make it feel like the worlds crashing down. You’ve just gotta bide your time; if it’s meant to be, it’ll happen.”

 

Lafayette and John both raised their eyebrows, surprised by his change of tone.

 

“Wait, so you’re saying I shouldn’t give up?” John asked, the demon on is shoulder urging him on.

 

Hercules narrowed his eyes. “I’m saying, time resolves everything. I don’t condone whatever has happened between you and him in the past, or anything else that goes through either of your heads on the subject so long as he’s in a relationship. It’s  _ wrong _ . But, I will concede that if anything real is to exist between you two, within sufficient time of their breaking up, it’d be pertinent to admit that you were a better pairing. Of course, the secrecy of what’s happened should be a warning to you on the very front of that.”

 

John frowned. “Wait, what do you mean by that?”

 

Hercules shifted. “Well, he hasn’t told Eliza, right? And you said he loves her, or you think he does. What does that say about him?”

 

John frowned. “What does that say about  _ me _ ?” He muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

 

“That’s not my point, John. This is obviously eating away at you - you can read it every time you idiots are in a room together. Alex, on the other hand, seems…” He hesitated.

 

Lafayette and John both awaited his finished thought with baited breath.

 

“Seems what?” Lafayette pressed.

 

Hercules pressed his lips together. “Listen, the guy’s been my roomie since freshman year. I’d hate to talk bad on him in any way.”

 

“Of course,” John ceded. “And he’s one of my best friends, regardless. But if you have insight, we’d love to hear it, given you’re comfortable sharing.”

 

Silence ensued.

 

John checked the time; barely ten thirty. He still had an hour and a half.

 

He was about to comment on this, taking the spot off of Hercules, when the tailor continued.

 

“He seems sometimes like he doesn’t necessarily know the value of his relationships. Almost like… He takes them for granted. Takes  _ people _ for granted. And that’s… That’s a really dangerous personality trait to those people around him, and those relationships. And he definitely has a self-destructive streak in him, that can’t be denied.”

 

John swallowed. Hercules wasn’t wrong; he could see how cheating on your significant other would be translated as that, and certainly how withholding the knowledge of that infidelity for weeks could be charged as such.

 

“There’s one other thing.” He decided to confide in his friends; he was fairly certain he could trust them.

 

Hercules and Lafayette looked at him expectantly.

 

“At the Schuyler’s party, right before the fight, we were sitting on the beach just outside the yard. We were both pretty drunk, and Alex was saying something but I just sorta… Zoned out, I guess. Then he was looking all intense and he asked me if I understood what he’d said. I mean, I hadn’t even heard it but I just nodded like an idiot because I didn’t want him to know I hadn’t been listening, and he thanked me like it was this whole big thing. Since then, he’s been acting weird.”

 

Hercules frowned. “Weird how?”

 

John shrugged. “Like, we haven’t hung out at all, he’s always dodging my texts and shit. I dunno. It’s probably nothing.”

 

Lafayette shook his head. “Man, you two really are chock full of drama, aren’t you?” He said it teasingly, but John couldn’t help agreeing.

 

“You’re not wrong there.”

 

Lafayette suddenly reached urgently across Hercules to backhand John in the chest a few times, as if bursting with the need to say what he had to say. “John, I have a brilliant idea!”

 

“Uh-oh.” Hercules said, eyeing his boyfriend warily.

 

“No, no it’s good I promise; we could take him to Spectrum with us. Lots of single boys, looking for other single boys.”

 

John frowned. “I don’t know about that. It seems like… A lot. Besides, I don’t need to be  _ looking _ for a relationship, when I should be focusing on school.”

 

Lafayette shook his head. “Nonsense, amour. Aside, who said anything about a  _ relationship _ ? What you need is a  _ distraction _ .”

 

Now John scoffed. “Okay, I’m certainly not gonna use some poor rando as a  _ distraction _ from whatever it is you think I need distracted from-”

 

“It could be fun,” Hercules conceded. “Even if you don’t go in there looking for anything particular, the meetings are a good place to meet other queer people, expand your point of view a little bit.”

 

John pressed his lips together. “I don’t know guys.”

 

Lafayette clasped his hands together, as if begging. “John, please. Come to one meeting, when you get back from South Carolina.”

 

John still wasn’t sure, and Hercules placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Just think about it.”

 

John nodded; that, he could agree to.

 

He checked the time again; nearly eleven. “You guys wanna grab something to eat before class? A last group lunch before I get to go back and be surrounded by a bunch of stuck-up southerners?”

 

Lafayette grinned. “A last meal?” He pulled out his phone and began typing. “I have plans with Thomas, but if you two’d like to tag along-”

 

John made a retching sound, and Lafayette looked at him sideways. “Sorry. Go on.”

 

Lafayette rolled his eyes. “He’s not so bad, you know. Anyway, we’re supposed to be meeting-” He was cut off by a knock at the door, and his eyebrows shot up. He glanced at the clock. “Right now, it would seem.”

 

“It’s open!” Hercules called, and the lithe frame of Thomas Jefferson eased through the door. John did his best to put on a pleasant smile.

 

Jefferson did a quick survey of the room, his eyes settling on John for a moment, and small lines forming between his eyebrows. His eyes moving on to Lafayette, the ginger’s expression softened.

 

“You about ready, Gil?” He asked. 

 

Lafayette nodded. “Did you get my text?” He asked. When Jefferson shook his head, he waved it off. “You mind some extra company for lunch?”

 

Jefferson’s expression was that of someone who’d touched an unripe lemon to the end of their tongue. “I suppose not, assuming proffered civility.”

 

John had to fight back an eye roll, hairs on the back of his neck standing up defensively. “Don’t worry Thomas, I’ll play nice if you will.” He grunted.

 

Jefferson’s expression immediately brightened. “Fabulous. Let’s roll then!” He turned around and opened the door again, gesturing the entourage to precede him out the door.

 

Hercules was the first to rise, followed closely by John and Lafayette.

  
  


When the crew approached the fancy double doors of  _ 3 Giovanni _ , John glanced at the sky; clear blue, dotted with white clouds. Nonetheless, the wind was biting and he was relieved to be indoors.

 

The four dined with little incident, the most controversy coming from both Lafayette and Jefferson attempting to pick up the check.

 

They argued for a few minutes, before agreeing to split the bill.

 

Lafayette and Hercules apparently had other plans afterwards, and headed off past the restaurant after saying their goodbyes, leaving John and Jefferson alone to walk back to the sciences building.

 

“Look,” Thomas began in a plaintive tone John hadn’t heard him use before. “Whatever issues we’ve had, kid, Gilbert is my best friend. We go way back, and obviously, you two are very close. Just don’t forget that, whatever happens.”

 

The tone sounded vaguely threatening, but honestly John didn’t have the energy to pick a fight over it. “I’m perfectly aware of the magnitude of your relationship. We don’t have to like each other, but being civil on occasion for the good of…” John trailed off as his eyes fell upon three forms, standing in a threatening stance, before the building. “Oh, no.” He breathed.

 

“Laurens!” James, the bad James from the party, stood between two larger men with their arms crossed menacingly. 

 

John took a subconscious step backwards.

 

James and his cronies advanced, and John swallowed thickly, aware of Jefferson’s gaze shifting from him to the three men.

 

“What did you do?” He hissed in John’s ear.

 

John’s voice failed him as he saw James draw a  _ baseball bat _ from behind his back. “You’re  _ fucking _ kidding me.” He managed under his breath. 

 

“John,” Jefferson said urgently.

 

“James, be reasonable.” John managed, steeling himself. “What happened happened, and it’s nobody’s issue.”

 

James threw his head back and let out what seemed to John a hysterical cackle. “What happened  _ happened _ ?  _ Nobody’s issue?!  _ I will  _ kick _ your  _ ass! _ ” He lunged forwards.

 

Before John could register what was happening, strong, slender fingers wrapped around his bicep and he was being dragged up the street.

 

“ _ Run, _ dumbass!” Jefferson puffed in his ear.

 

John regained his bearings in time for his shoe to catch on an uneven paving stone and send him with a sickening thud to the concrete. He scrambled back to his feet and continued running, aware of his bleeding chin Jefferson beside him.

 

“You can’t run forever, Laurens!” Came James’ maniacal voice, also exerted and sounding from not far to their rear.

 

Suddenly, Jefferson pushed him into an alleyway and towards what looked to John like a dead end. The Southerner paused in his step. “Thomas what-?”

 

“Just trust me, let’s go!” Thomas grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the back of the alley, where a large dumpster stood.

 

With nimble movements, Thomas quickly scaled a series of crates up to the top of the dumpster, from whence John watched in astonishment as the redhead propelled himself upwards and grabbed the bottom rung of a fire escape ladder.

 

John followed him to the top of the dumpster, as in a tremendous feat of strength, the redhead pulled himself up until he was all the way on the ladder, at which point he looked back at John. 

 

“Come  _ on! _ ” Thomas urged him, as John glanced back in time to see James and his cronies skid to a halt the entry to the alley, and begin running towards them.

 

“Thomas, I don’t think-”

 

“Just  _ jump, _ dammit!”

 

John jumped for the ladder, and managed to grab the bottom rung, from where Thomas Jefferson grabbed his shirt roughly by the scruff and hauled him up beside him.

 

The two quickly scaled the ladder, Thomas in front and John at his heels, until they reached the roof of the building and Thomas deftly ran along to the opposite side, where he took the fire escape back down with equal acrobatic prowess, and John half climbed, half fell down behind him.

 

Thomas jumped to the ground - nearly ten feet from their perch - and rolled easily, coming back up to one knee and gesturing John to follow him.

 

John landed with much less grace - he attempted to bend his knees when he landed, but felt pain lance up from his strained ankles nonetheless - and scrambled to his feet, hearing the shouting of James and his cronies echoing distortedly through the alabaster wilderness.

 

Thomas was panting heavily, and stood as John recovered himself.

 

“What the  _ fuck _ was that?” John managed as his breathing began to even out.

 

Thomas grinned, his face flushed and his hair a mess. “Pretty badass, right?” He was leaning heavily on his knees, but stood as he shrugged.  “I’ve spent a lot of time wandering around the city, looking for quiet places.”

 

John let out a laugh that sounded hysterical even in his own ears. “Oh… Oh god.” He panted. “I’m gonna be so late.”

 

He ran a hand through his hair, as Jefferson laughed as well. It was infectious, and after a few moments of the boys recovering themselves, Jefferson smacked him on the arm. “C’mon. I know a shortcut back to the building. And on the way, you’re gonna tell me what the  _ fuck _ that was about.”

 

John laughed, the absolute absurdity of their circumstances putting any animosity he felt towards Jefferson in hindsight as the two started off again, and John recounted the fiasco at the party and then their encounter in the restaurant.

 

As the building came into sight, John was just finishing his story. “So then, the lady who owns the cafe bursts in, Herc, Laf and Alex right behind. I thought I was done for man. James hauls himself to his feet, and he says all Bond-villain style, ‘This isn’t over’, and the guy just dips.”

 

Jefferson shook his head. “That’s some  _ shit _ you’ve got yourself in, Laurens.” He muttered incredulously. “Guy sounds like he’s got some loose bolts upstairs.”

 

John laughed. “Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.” Silence settled over the two, as they closed in on the class building. 

 

At the doors, John paused. “Thank you, by the way, for hauling ass like that. I don’t know how that would’ve gone down if you weren’t there, but…”

 

“Don’t sweat it.” Jefferson dismissed, a small smile on his lips. “Now go, or you really are gonna be late.”

 

John smiled appreciatively, and nodded, before pulling the great glass door open and hauling ass, again.

 

A glance at his phone told him class was starting, so when he reached the door he tried to make his entrance as discreet as possible.

 

Immediately, Peggy and Alexander’s eyes were both on him, peeling off his coat and rushing to a seat on Peggy’s left hand, opposite Alexander.

 

“The hell happened to you?” Peggy whispered, taking in his disheveled form.

 

“James.  _ Again _ .” John huffed, still catching his breath. “Him and his cronies tried to ambush me, but I was with Jefferson and-”

 

“ _ Mister _ Laurens,” Came the short, snippy tone of Professor Adams. She gestured with a placating hand across the classroom. “I’m sure your excuse for being late is ever so exciting, but if you don’t mind, I am trying to lecture.”

 

John ducked his head slightly. “Sorry, Professor Adams.” He said clearly. She gave a small nod, and continued with the lecture.

 

“What do you mean tried to ambush you?” Peggy asked in an even lower tone, eyes dark.

 

“I don’t know exactly what the idea was, but he had a baseball bat so that sent a pretty clear message.” John returned.

 

Peggy shook her head.

 

After a few moments of paying attention to the lecture in earnest, John turned back to Peggy. “So, who’s my mystery date?” He asked.

 

She gestured dramatically, with both hands, to Alexander. “Ta-da!” she whispered.

 

Alexander looked, by expression and body language, very pleased with himself.

 

Hie eyes, however, betrayed him; they were thoughtful, anticipatory, and anxious.

 

And in that moment, any of John’s preconceptions and objections to the older boy accompanying him melted away.

 

John gave a soft, reassuring smile. “Awesome.”

 

Alexander’s face lit up slightly, and the two fist bumped discreetly below the table before John turned his full, undivided attention on Professor Adams.

 

He didn’t bother to note that Alexander had not been in this class when he’d arrived at the beginning of the semester, because it didn’t matter; he was there now, and John wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  
  


After the class, John returned to his dorm for his suitcase and headed for Alexander and Hercules’ dorm, to pick up Alex and say his goodbye’s to Hercules and Lafayette.

 

Alex sternly instructed his roommate and his boyfriend not to ‘desecrate his sleeping space’ and the two were off.

 

John was almost in a dreamlike state as Peggy picked them up and the three drove in relative silence to the airport.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE ALMOST THERE Y'ALL
> 
> ENDZONE IN SIGHT
> 
> Who's ready for the wedding? Who's DOWN to see some DRAMA because bo-hu-huey I've got some shit in store.
> 
> And who dafuq does James think he is? How it's finna play out for them? Find out soon!


	20. Pation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Alexander fly to South Carolina, though it isn't as easy or simple as that. It never is.
> 
> As they try to get settled in, John flashes on everything he's left behind, everything he's built, and everything he's yet to build.
> 
> He also runs into someone from his past that makes it hard to deny that there was still _something_ left for him in South Carolina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaboi's been on a writing kick so sorry that my posting only ever gains erratic nature, but hey here's an update for New Years, may everyone find new passion, new friends, new works and new miracles in 2019 (Or as I'll refer to it exclusively from this point forward, 20bi-teen).

John and Alex fought through the TSA and finally made it to their boarding, settling into their seats after tucking their bags away overhead.

 

In his carry-on, John had his laptop with a season of The Next Generation downloaded, as well as headphones, his sketchpad, his cell phone, a spare battery pack, and various snacks.

 

The two had barely said a word to each other, and John was certain the whole flight would last in awkward silence.

 

Once the hustle and bustle of boarding died down, however, and the plane was getting ready to ascend, Alex muttered something under his breath that John didn’t quite understand.

 

“Hmm?” He inquired, and looked to his friend to see him shaking his head, face slightly pallid and firmly set.

 

“I don’t like flying.” He admitted. “Well, I’ve never flown. But I never imagined I’d like flying. All up in the sky’s business, as if challenging the clouds, like ‘come at me bro!’. Well, I for one don’t want the sky to come at me.”

 

John couldn’t help but crack a smile at this. “Well, it is the safest way to travel.”

 

“Safest way to travel my ass.” Alex muttered, smiling despite this.

 

John reached for his laptop and began to boot it up. “Wanna watch Star Trek and try not to think about it?”

 

Alexander smiled up at him. “Absolutely I do.”

 

John ran the VLC software and selected the first episode of the season, and the two fell into a comfortable, attentive silence.

  
  


They were finishing the second episode when John glanced to the window and felt his heart stutter.

 

The seatbelt light blinked on, right as the first shaky turbulence met them. Alex went rigid.

 

His eyes followed Johns to the window, where the reason for the turbulence was apparent; ahead, dark gray storm clouds totally blocked out the sun. Thunder booming madly and lighting lacing through the cumulonimbi disruptively, the storm looked menacing, supercilious, aggressive.

 

Alexander’s gaze was fixed on the window, and John noted his knuckles white on the arms of the seat.

 

John placed a hand on his forearm, but Alexander only responded by shaking his head. Then, he did something John hadn’t expected; with his opposite arm, he reached down the collar of his shirt and pulled out the end of a necklace, gripping it firmly as he whispered something to his closed fist. He then kissed the charm and tucked it back into his shirt, slowly closing his eyes.

 

“John, I don’t like this.” He managed, as the plane shook with turbulence.

 

“I know, but it’s gonna be fine. Safest way to travel, right?”

 

Alexander didn’t respond.

 

John chewed his lip, and then slipped his hand into Alexanders. The older boy squeezed like he was holding to a lifesaver amidst a roiling sea.

 

With his other hand, John traced the line from Alexander’s wrist to his elbow, counting softly beneath his breath. “In, two, three, four, hold, two, three, four, out, two, three, four, five, hold, two, three.” Repeating this, John was relieved to see Alexander’s breath slowing.

 

After a few minutes, his eyes slowly opened back up. They were still anxious, but warm and John was slightly put off by the intimacy of the look. The intimacy of the moment.

 

He was considering whether to stop counting, draw his hands away from the soft contact he so longed for, when the plane pitched suddenly and Alexander’s eyes were shut again, his hand now holding John’s with a vice like grip as his breath came in quick, shallow puffs.

 

John raised his voice slightly as he counted, adding a soft melody, hoping to distract his friend.

 

Despite this, he glanced to the window and found his own anxiety mounting; he’d never landed during a storm like this, and it looked like that was what they were preparing to do.

 

The frost that had formed on the windows in their early flight from the city was now interrupted by streaking rain and condensation, the plane rumbling and bumping along unsteadily.

 

There was a murmur about the plane of dissent, apprehension and uncertainty as people became unsettled by the storm.

 

Alexander’s breathing was still ragged, but it followed John’s count and that was the most he could hope for.

 

Until a particularly loud boom of thunder echoed through the plane. A baby started crying.

 

Alexander’s breath caught at the sound, and his eyes flew open, simultaneously looking pleading and determined.

 

His breath echoed in John’s ear, making it hard for him to control his own. This was a  _ bad _ storm. What if something  _ did _ happen?

 

John focused on counting, and the rhythm of the action brought him some relief. When was this damn bird going to land?

 

As if on cue, the plane pitched sharply forward and the announcement over the PA came that they were beginning their descent.

 

John continued tracing a line up and down Alexander’s arm, in time with the counting, trying to shut out the reality of the circumstances.

 

Alex reached his free hand into his shirt again, pulled out the little charm and held it up to his lips. He began muttering under his breath, holding tight to the chain and it took John a moment to realize he was  _ praying _ .

 

Slightly astonished by the deduction, John paused his roving hands and Alex opened his eyes, fixing them on John, his lips frozen half-ajar.  _ God _ that was hot.

 

John gave him a small smile and returned to his quiet counting and running his hands, soothingly, across the other students forearm.

 

The plane landed but the two, being relatively near the back, stayed seated a minute.

 

Alex tucked what John had now identified as a crucifix back into his shirt, his breathing steadying with the feeling of stability.

 

Once everyone in front of them had stood and shuffled forwards, John urged Alex - him being on the aisle - to stand, which he complied.

 

He still looked unnerved, but at least in control of himself. They retrieved their suitcases from the overhead bins, and John switched his phone off of airplane mode to shoot a text to Martha, letting her know they’d landed.

 

He realized with a shock that he hadn’t explained his whole date situation to her, and considered the idea Martha was going to get when she saw the two to them together.

 

It made his head hurt to think about.

 

They made it back through TSA, and John looked out of huge, glass windows to see the storm still raging outside. It gave the whole airport, with it’s huge gaping windows, high ceilings and dim, distant fluorescent lights a ghostly sort of look. People shambled around, everyone seeming on edge because of the weather.

 

Martha told him which entrance to meet her at, and he turned to Alexander to let him know the plan.

 

The words died in his throat, however, at the sight of the state of him.

 

Alexander had gone pale, his face slack with unmitigated fear, his eyes wide and fixed on the distant sky.

 

John moved closer to him and slipped his hand into his friends. Alexander looked at him, but said nothing. John simply nodded his understanding, and began towards one of the tall, standing maps of the airport near them.

 

“Martha is at the South entrance 4C, we’re supposed to meet her there and she’ll take us to the hotel.” He glanced at his watch; 4:30. “We’ll have two hours to settle in, before Martha wants to take us to dinner with Davina - her fianc é e.” He explained.

 

When they reached the map, John looked to Alexander, and the older boy nodded slightly to show his understanding.

 

John studied the map for a moment, before starting off in the direction of the entrance, Alexander’s clammy hand in his.

 

When they reached the sliding glass doors, Martha was standing patiently outside in a blue blouse, blazer, and slacks, a dark blue umbrella shielding her from the melee.

 

John started for the doors, but was stopped by Alexander’s firmly planted feet.

 

When John looked back, Alex’s jaw was tight and he had a strained look on his face. “John, I don’t…”

 

John glanced back to the door in time for Martha to meet his eyes, and she waved excitedly.

 

John gave a feeble smile in response, then turned back to Alex. “C’mon, it’s not so bad. We’ll only be in the rain for a second, and then in the car on the way to the hotel.”

 

Alexander shook his head slightly. “I know, but…” His eyes seemed to drift past John to Martha, and his expression slackened slightly. He took a heavy shaky breath, then nodded to John. “Alright. Let’s go.”

 

The two started towards the door together, John squeezing Alexander’s hand reassuringly.

 

As soon as they were out the door, Martha looked over them appraisingly. “What the hell happened to you?” it was a fair question, seeing as both boys still bore the marks of their original altercation with James, and John even fresher from the cafe.

 

John shrugged, working his sore jaw. “Its kind of a long story.”

 

Martha's expression became worried. “John you didn't-?”

 

But John was already shaking his head. “No, Alex was there and he’ll no back me up; the guy was asking for it.”

 

Martha looked unconvinced, but drew John into an embrace, pulling both boys beneath her umbrella. “I'll take your word for now, bit you're gonna tell me the whole story later.” She noted, extending a hand to Alexander. “Martha Laurens, I don’t think we’ve formally met.” 

 

The glint in her eye told John she remembered his face from their brief encounter.

 

John could hear Alexander’s shallow, ragged breath in his ear over the pattering of the rain.

 

Despite this, he took her proffered hand and shook it firmly. “Alexander Hamilton, it’s a pleasure.”

 

Martha gave John a knowing look, before starting towards her Explorer parked on the curb.

 

A woman John didn’t recognize sat in the passenger seat, and he was more than happy to climb into the back beside Alexander if it meant he could help him calm down.

 

Martha went around and climbed into the driver’s seat, twisting around to look at the boys. “This is Eliza Rutledge, my maid of honor.” She introduced.

 

The name pricked the hairs on the back of John’s neck, though he nodded courteously.

 

Alexander’s breath hitched, and he released John’s hand, drawing his own into his lap to twist both together

 

“Ellie, this is my brother John and his date for the wedding, Alexander Hamilton.”

 

“It’s a pleasure.” Alexander repeated, his eyes now dark and distant.

 

“Nice to meet you.” John agreed, relief flooding through him at the use of the nickname. Ellie didn’t suit Eliza Schuyler, but Eliza Rutledge it most certainly did.

 

If he was lucky, he could erase the thought of her name being ‘Eliza’ totally.

 

Alexander’s breathing was ragged but controlled as they pulled out of the parking lot and into the full view of the storm.

 

John watched as he unclipped the necklace from behind his neck and drew it to his lap, where he twisted the chain around his fingers and ran them along the shape.

 

John found ample distraction in thinking about the next week.

 

Despite his feigned general ambivalence and his earnest excitement for the wedding itself, John felt a hot, sluggish knot of anxiety roiling in his stomach. 

 

He pulled his phone out, considering his contacts.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan, Lafayette, Peggy Schuyler     4:42pm**

**Landed safely! It’s raining like crazy but we’re chill**

 

**To: Peggy Schuyler     4:42pm**

**And on the dl, I’m stressed to see my family. Idk how this is gonna go down**

 

The informative and pleading texts sent, John reclined and watched the raindrops trace their way down the window, until his phone buzzed again.

 

**From: Hercules Mulligan     4:43pm**

**Thx bro. How’s Alex w the storm? He has a thing abt that**

 

John licked his lips slowly. Of course Hercules would know, the two were roommates after all, and it wasn’t like Alex was exactly a master of disguise.

 

**To: Hercules Mulligan     4:44pm**

**Np. And he’s dealing**

 

John’s phone buzzed twice more.

 

**From: Lafayette     4:44pm**

**Coolio. Have fun!**

 

**From: Peggy Schuyler     4:44pm**

**Aww, hun don’t sweat it. They probably miss you like crazy**

 

John couldn’t help the small scoff that escaped his lips at that, earning an inquisitive look in the rear view mirror from Martha. He shook his head dismissively.

 

**To: Lafayette     4:44pm**

**Thx bro**

 

**To: Peggy Schuyler     4:45pm**

**Maybe. Thx for your sage words of wisdom <3 ttyl**

 

John clicked his phone locked and tucked it back into his pocket.

 

He watched the depressed sky rumble and flash, the wind picking up to whip trees this way and that, picking up debris - both biological and inanimate - and swirling it madly through the streets and grassy areas, creating a chaotic scene of irrefutable desolation.

 

A glance to Alexander found the older student watching out the opposite window, rosary in his hand as he counted under his breath.

 

His other hand had dropped to the seat beside him, playing with the seams uncertainly.

 

John hesitated, then reached out and took his hand again in his own.

 

Alexander turned to look at him, and for a moment John thought he would pull away, but he simply gave a soft smile, turning his hand over to give John’s a gentle squeeze.

 

John smiled back, and then returned his gaze to the window just in time for Alexander’s phone to chime, prompting him to release John’s hand in order to pull it out of his pocket and type a response to the text he’d received.

 

When he returned his hand to John’s, he gave him an odd look.

 

“What?” John prompted defensively.

 

Alexander just shrugged. “I’m just excited to see the city, the people, that produced the John Laurens we know and love back in the city.”

 

“Oh, God. I sincerely doubt that.” John groaned.

 

“Hey!” Martha objected defensively from the driver’s seat.

 

“Obviously not counting  _ you _ , Marty.” He smiled cheekily at her. “You’re the bestest big sister anyone could ask for.”

 

In the rear view mirror, he saw her roll her eyes.

 

“Anyway it ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. Obviously.” He gestured vaguely to the sky.

 

Alexander scoffed. “You can say  _ that  _ again.”

 

John let out a small laugh at that, and saw some of the tension dissipate from Alexander’s raised shoulders.

 

Comfortable silence ensued, until they slowed to a stop in front of a nice tall hotel.

 

John thanked Martha for everything, and he and Alexander, huddled against the rain, shuffled up the steps into the vast lobby of the hotel.

 

As the two made their way up to the counter, the man behind it was giving them an odd look.

 

_ Oh boy. _

 

“Hi, uh, a room with the Laurens-Ramsay wedding party?”

 

The man sniffed distastefully, and typed something into the computer.

 

“Name?” He asked flatly.

 

“John Laurens.”

 

He resumed typing a moment, and then rolled his chair back to a set of wooden cubbies, and drew out a key card.

 

“Room 272, third floor.” He informed them, turning back to the computer and ignoring them.

 

“Thank you.” John intoned quietly, taking the lead back towards the elevator near the door.

 

When the elevator door had dinged shut, and John had pressed the button for the third floor, Alexander spoke.

 

“What was that guy’s problem?”

 

John shook his head. “He probably assumed we were a couple. I’m sure he’s seen more gay couples in this party than he’d seen in his whole life outside of it.”

 

The rest of the ride was quiet, and it wasn’t until they were coming up on the door of their room that John felt compelled to speak again.

 

“There’s gonna be a lot of that around here, just so you know. South Carolina isn’t exactly known for it’s liberality.” He swiped the key card and the two entered the suite.

 

It was bigger than John expected: two full size beds, facing a television set; a kitchenette, complete with a coffee maker and mini fridge; a full size jack-and-jill bathroom; a living area with a sofa and another television set in an adjoining room.

 

“Nice digs.” Alexander commented, wheeling his suitcase towards the center of the room.

 

John smiled amusedly. “Yeah, it’s bigger than my dorm. Can’t I just come back and live here?” Suitcase abandoned, John flopped down onto the bed nearer the door.

 

Alexander let out a small laugh. “Nah, we’d miss you too much in New York.” He flopped down on the bed beside John, the two relishing the quiet, until thunder rolled tumultuously outside and John felt Alexander tense on the bed beside him.

 

After a moment of tense silence, Alexander rolled off the bed. “I’m gonna take a shower, try to get my head together before dinner.”

 

John sat up, nodding his understanding, a glance at the digital clock on the nightstand between the two beds informing him it was now after five. 

  
  


When Alexander returned, the rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the two headed out.

 

John, glad he’d brought an umbrella, had called for a cab before Alex had even finished his shower, and it was waiting on the curb when they made it out of the hotel, ignoring pointed looks from random people scattered across the hotel’s lobby.

 

John took Alexander’s hand before they entered the maelstrom that was a South Carolina storm.

 

They passed disturbingly familiar multicolored houses and perfectly trim lawns, dotted with storefronts of impeccable decor outside and in, broken by perfectly paved pooling streets.

 

It was like a bad dream.

 

John had a sick feeling in his stomach, though he was certain the faint, vomit-y smell of the cab wasn’t much help.

 

When they reached the restaurant, John swallowed thickly, hesitating.

 

A comforting hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked up to meet Alexander’s eyes. “It’s gonna go great. If Davina’s got a brain in her head, she’s gonna love you.”

 

John gave a faint smile.

 

Then, with great mental effort, he clambered out of the cab, opening his umbrella and moving to the opposite side to shield an exiting Alexander from the rain as well, and the two walked purposefully towards the double doors of the restaurant.

 

John let out another long sigh before pushing the doors open.

 

A hostess was immediately upon them, greeting them and trying to seat them.

 

“Um, Laurens, party of four.” He told her.

 

The girls eyebrows drew together for a moment, and then her eyes sparked with recognition and she smiled.

 

“Not  _ John _ Laurens, by chance?” She asked.

 

John, taken aback by the recognition, barely managed a stuttered response. “Y-yeah? I’m sorry, I don’t-”

 

“ _ Damn _ , Sneakers, you grew.” She commented, looking him up and down.

 

Suddenly the face clicked with the familiar nickname, and a smile replaced John’s apprehensive look.

 

“Martha Manning, in the flesh.” He greeted.

 

She extended a hand, and in a flash John was back in highschool. The two executed their old ‘secret’ handshake with little stumbling.

 

Martha laughed. “I didn’t know you were in town! What brings you 'round?”

 

“Marty is getting married.” John admitted, and Martha’s eyebrows went up. 

 

She clutched a hand dramatically to her chest. “Aww, the little Laurens’ are all grown up.” She commented, sniffing for added effect. “Well, I suppose I’d better show you to your table.” She gestured them to follow her, and started off.

 

The boys followed her to a table near the back, and there they waited for Martha and Davina.

 

“Seems like not everything left on a sour note,” Alexander commented.

 

John shrugged. “Martha and I - that Martha, not my sister - we always got along pretty well.” Then, in a lower tone, he added, “She was one of the first people I 'came out' to. Incidentally, also my first girlfriend.”

 

Alexander raised his eyebrows at this, but only nodded.

 

Around the restaurant, people were giving them dirty looks. John sighed and shook his head, trying to ignore them.

 

Alexander, on the other hand, glared right back.

 

John was ever grateful for his presence, and he realized it was beyond his draw to Alexander specifically; he was grateful to have a staple of the city, a reminder of how much better suited he was to New York than he ever had been to South Carolina.

 

These weren’t his people.

 

Alexander, Hercules, Lafayette, even Jefferson and the Schuylers, they were his people.

 

“Thanks for coming out here with me. It’s a lot easier with someone I can trust.” John breathed, barely audible over the din of the restaurant.

 

Alexander smiled warmly. “It was the least I could do. Pegs was just about out of her mind looking for a date for you, and actually in the end it wasn’t her idea or mine.”

 

John frowned, looking up at him. “Whose was it?”

 

Alexander’s gaze dropped to his hands, folded in his lap. “Eliza’s.”

 

John felt his face flush slightly. Ironic.

 

He was saved from having to reply by Martha Manning returning, Martha Laurens and Davina in tow.

 

Martha was beaming, and Davina was as beautiful in person as she was in photos; her ruddy red hair was tied back neatly, her dark complexion not hiding her array of freckles, and her eyes meticulously lined.

 

“Sorry we’re late, people drive like crazy in this weather.” Martha managed.

 

Contrary to her excitable, jittery air, Davina radiated quiet confidence and composure.

 

John extended a hand. “John Laurens, you must be Davina. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He admitted, to which Martha gave him a sharp look.

 

Davina nodded, shaking his hand. “And I you.” She commented. “A pleasure.” Her voice was rich, smooth, with a gentleness like it was barely meant to brush those she addressed.

 

When her gaze turned to Alexander, he extended a hand as well. “Alexander Hamilton.” He nodded to John. “We go to school together.”

 

Martha gave John an inquisitive look at the introduction, but to his relief said nothing.

 

The hostess returned and took their drink orders, before bustling off with a wink over her shoulder at John.

 

“So, something we’ve yet to discuss because I wanted to wait until you were here in person,” Martha started. John’s heartbeat quickened. “We’re doing a joint ‘bachelorette’-”she did air quotes. “Type party, and it’s totally not traditional at all, you’re both invited. Ellie is planning it all for us - she’s been such a doll, to be honest - and I’m super excited. But, it is tomorrow night, so I understand if you need more time than that to settle in.”

 

John glanced to Alexander. “I mean, I’m down. What’d’you think?” He directed the second part to his ‘date’.

 

Alexander shrugged. “Sounds like fun. Do you know what type of party it’s gonna be?”

 

Martha shook her head. “She’s kept it on the down low, but has assured us there will be booze and entertainment.”

 

John raised an eyebrow. “You’re not worried about being hungover at the altar?” He asked, an edge of mischief to his tone.

 

Martha returned with a dangerous smirk. “I don’t  _ get _ hungover, John.” She assured him.

 

“And I promised to take it easy to keep this one out of trouble.” Davina gestured to her fiancee.

 

John couldn’t help chuckle in response. “Good luck with that.” He winked at his sister, who scoffed. 

 

“Oh, shove it.” She teased, and just then the hostess returned with their drinks and to take their orders.

 

Once everyone had ordered and the hostess had disappeared, Martha looked between John and Alexander deftly. “Okay, spill; who kicked your asses and why?”

 

So John launched into the story about the party, Alexander adding commentary here and there, and then continued to tell of the ambush at the cafe, finally ending with his exploits that very morning.

 

Alexander pointedly made a face whenever John mentioned Jefferson.

 

“Dang,” Martha commented when he'd finished, nodding her approval. “Sounds like he  _ did _ deserve it.” she agreed.

 

The four talked and joked for a while, until their plates were cleared and everyone was drowsy with full stomachs.

 

They said their goodbyes, and before they left, John gave Martha Manning his number, told her he may be in town for a while.

 

Then he returned to the waiting cab where Alexander sat anxiously, texting with his brow furrowed.

 

“What’s up?” John asked, regarding his friend, who merely grunted and shook his head. 

 

The cab ride was silent, save for the clicking of Alexander’s keyboard, until they pulled up to the hotel and he clicked off his phone and tucked it into his pocket. “Sorry.” He breathed. “‘Liza’s…” He shook his head.

 

John pursed his lips, climbing out of the car with his umbrella and moving to Alexander’s side to shelter him as well as the two climbed the steps to the building.

 

It was nearly eight thirty already, and protest it as he might, John was tired. His brain was on somewhat of a schedule from being in school and he was usually in bed before nine.

 

Alexander seemed of a similar sentiment, as upon entering their room, he made immediately for the bathroom and changed into sweats and a T-shirt.

 

While John was in the bathroom changing, his phone buzzed on the counter.

 

**From: Lafayette     8:36pm**

**Have fun ;)**

 

John rolled his eyes, clicking off his phone and wetting his toothbrush in the sink.

  
  


When he emerged from the bathroom, Alexander was lounging on the bed nearer the door on his phone.

 

Upon the sound of John’s reentry, he clicked off his phone and rolled over onto his back, a mischievous look on his face.

 

“What?” John asked warily.  

 

“There’s a full minibar in the kitchen.” He commented, as if casually.

 

John narrowed his eyes. “You want to drink tonight, and then go out again and drink tomorrow night?”

 

Alexander shrugged. “We should play a drinking game.” He pulled something up on his phone, and then sat up to show the screen to John; a Star Trek drinking game.

 

John drew a dramatic fist to his chest. “You really know how to play my weaknesses, Hamilton.” He accused.

 

Alexander laughed, cut short by the sudden roll of thunder outside their window. “ _ Fuck _ .” He breathed, drawing both of his hands to his face.

 

It occurred to John that drinking might be Alexander’s way of distracting himself from the weather.

 

“Fuck it.” Alex looked up at John when he spoke. “Send me that picture.” He dug his laptop out of his carry-on, and pulled up the next episode they had been on on VLC, moving to the sofa.

 

After a moment’s consideration, he set his computer to the side and stood again, moving to the window to draw the blinds.

 

The sounds of the storm could still be heard, but at least it wasn’t visible.

 

Alex stood as well, and the two moved to the minibar, considering it’s contents.

 

Alexander, predictably, took two small bottles of fireball. John, feeling the urge to distract himself pretty well tonight as well, took two identically small bottles of vodka.

 

Alexander stripped the comforter off of the bed nearer the door and settled it over both of their shoulders on the couch, and they played the show.

 

The two drank and watched in relative quiet for one episode, two, and then Alexander laid his head on John’s shoulder, pulling the blanket tight around him, empty fireball bottles forgotten on the floor by their feet.

  
  


Before John knew it, he was waking, a terrible crick in his neck and Alexander trembling against his side.

 

Alexander’s face was buried in his neck and he was muttering in his sleep, the feel of his lips sending shivers through John.

 

“Alex..?” He muttered groggily.

 

The other student didn’t respond, but his muttering raised in volume.

 

It was unintelligible; he was speaking nonsense. Nonetheless, he sounded intensely distressed. 

 

“Alexander.” John tried, a little louder.

 

The older boy’s face was scrunched up, and his whole body was trembling. John had never seen anything like it.

 

Thunder rolled aggressively outside, and John suddenly understood; Alexander was having a nightmare because of the storm.

 

“I… I can’t…” Alexander muttered. Suddenly, he was shaking his head. “No… No… No!” He murmured, his breathing becoming more ragged. “I can’t, I can’t!” He let out a desperate sob, and went back to muttering unintelligibly.

 

“Alexander,” John tried again, maneuvering his form so Alexander’s shoulders were under his arm, and he grabbed his friend by the shoulder and shook him lightly. “It’s just a dream, dude. Wake up…”

 

Alexander began to sob more freely, muttering ‘no’ over and over again.

 

John shook his shoulder more firmly. “Alexander,  _ wake up _ .”

 

Suddenly the older boy’s eyes shot open, and he sat up straight, his breathing still ragged and his eyes wild.

 

“Hey, hey,” John placed a hand on his cheek. “It was just a nightmare.”

 

Alexander swallowed, running a hand through his hair.

 

John started to draw his hand back, but Alexander grabbed it and replaced it, closing his eyes and smiling despite his still rough and uneven breathing.

 

Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed John. Short, sweet, and chaste. After drawing back, he laid his head back on John’s shoulder, and the latter moved to make himself more comfortable.

 

“Just a nightmare.” John repeated, though he wasn’t sure if Alexander was awake anymore or if he had been at all.

 

But Alexander spoke, and John felt his heart break a little bit. “I know, ‘Liza. Sorry to wake you.” His words were slurred, though how much was with sleep and with alcohol John couldn’t say.

 

Either way, his throat tightened as he registered the words.

 

What was worse, Alexander turned around so he was laying facing John, and burrowed his head into his friends chest.

 

John sighed, running his hands absently through Alexander’s hair until he dozed off again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooppss, that was mean sorry XD


	21. Lunch; Not a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, and an unexpected old friend is reaching out. Unfortunately, John is not as smooth as he thinks he is, and for better or worse, always wears his heart on his sleeve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! The next chapter is Martha's bachelorette party, so there gotta be some filler till that because some WILD SHIT finna go down. Just you wait.
> 
> Meanwhile, here's something of an update

When John woke the next morning, he was alone on the couch. How Alexander had extricated himself without waking him was a mystery, as John had been known to be an impeccably light sleeper.

 

He supposed, jetlagged as he was, and with the mental exhaustion of the day’s events he’d been pretty knocked out.

 

He sat up, drawing a hand to his pulsing head. Whatever genes Martha had that kept her from getting hungover, they had skipped John.

 

He issued a groan, deep from the disturbed recesses of his being, feeling the soreness in his side and neck. 

 

From somewhere in the room, he registered the sound of clacking keys. Upon a quick observation of the room, he saw Alexander positioned on the bed nearer the window, cross-legged with his laptop, typing away.

 

John pulled his phone up to where he could read it, finding it to be only nine-thirty and that he had one missed text from an unknown number.

 

**From: (Unknown)     8:22am**

**Hi there! It’s Eliza Rutledge (Martha’s MOH). Just wanted to let you know the limo will be outside the French Quarter Inn at 5pm SHARP! Wear something comfy!**

 

The French Quarter inn was the place they were staying (along with, John assumed, the rest of the wedding party) so they simply had to be here at five.

 

Meaning they had over seven hours to kill until then.

 

If Alexander took any notice of John as the younger student went to the bathroom to freshen up, he gave no indication.

 

When John emerged again, and Alexander still didn’t look up, John decided drastic measures were necessary.

 

He flopped himself dramatically onto the bed beside Alexander, who didn’t hesitate in his typing, and groaned.

 

“I’m bored.” He huffed.

 

“Read a book.” Alexander encouraged, still not looking up from his laptop screen.

 

“We should do something.”

 

“You wanna go out and run the risk of seeing someone you know?” The older boy’s hands didn’t still as he spoke.

 

“I run the risk of seeing people I know every day in New York, and it’s a much smaller city than Charleston.” John pointed out.

 

Only now did Alexander’s typing hesitate long enough for him to glance at John. He made a face, but no further comment as he resumed typing dutifully.

 

“What are you writing about anyway?” John asked, rolling over onto his stomach.

 

Alexander turned his screen defensively away, his eyebrows drawing close. “A fail-safe.” He murmured.

 

John raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “A fail-safe?” He repeated.

 

Alexander let out a small huff. “Yes. Quite a private affair, actually.”

 

John blew a raspberry. “Okeydokey, I’ll entertain myself.” He rolled off the bed, moved to his bag to retrieve his own laptop, and queued up another episode of Star Trek.

 

The theme was playing quietly, rhythmic with Alexander’s incessant typing, when John’s phone chimed over “ _ To seek out new life, and new civilizations”. _

 

John checked; an unsaved number.

 

**From: (Unknown)     9:39am**

**Hey, Sneakers! It’s Martha. A couple of old friends from school and I are getting together today, I was wondering if you and your friend from the restaurant wanted to join us?**

 

John paused, glancing over at Alexander.

 

He chewed his lip for a moment. This was exactly the type of contact he’d wanted to avoid. On the other hand, he was growing painfully bored (even with Star Trek on hand).

 

And Martha was harmless, right? She had used to be John’s best friend, probably all through high school, and most importantly, she knew the most controversial thing about him.

 

“Hey, Alex?” He looked up to his roommate on the far bed, who paused his typing, looking at him and raising an eyebrow in response. “You wanna get brunch with the hostess from the restaurant and some of my other friends from high school?”

 

The corner of Alexander’s mouth twitched upwards, and he steepled his fingers thoughtfully over his mouth. “That certainly sounds… Entertaining. How well do you know these people?”

 

John shrugged. “I don’t even know who’s gonna be there.” He admitted.

 

Alexander broke into a grin, and shrugged. “Sounds like an adventure. Let’s do it.”

 

John couldn’t help but smile back, as he texted Martha.

 

**To: (Unknown)     9:44am**

**Sounds great. Where and when?**

 

Martha texted him an address and told him 10:30, so John and Alexander wasted no time in calling a cab and getting dressed.

 

When they exited the building, the rain had stopped, but the sky was still dark and gloomy, and the wind biting.

 

John pulled his scarf up over his nose.

 

As the cab pulled up to the cafe, John began counting his breaths. He was ready for this.

 

The two walked into  _ Another Broken Egg Cafe _ , barely a city block Northeast of the hotel, at 10:25.

 

Martha waved excitedly to them from a long table, where she sat with two guys and a girl, all of whom struck John as vaguely familiar.

 

John put on his best excited smile as he and Alexander made their way over to the table.

 

“John ‘Jacky’ Laurens, if you remember, Thomas Paine, Robert Morris, and my sister Sarah.” She reintroduced.

 

John couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them, but found the time to shoot a look at Martha. “That nickname is  _ not _ coming back.”

 

She just smiled innocently at him, as Thomas stood and extended a hand. “Good to see you again, buddy. I thought you’d flown to the big apple for good.”

 

John took his hand, and Thomas shook firmly. “Good to see you too, man. And yeah, I mean, I’m only in town for a little while.”

 

Thomas nodded and resumed his seat as Robert and Sarah stood.

 

Sarah gave him a real squeezy hug. “We missed you!” She claimed, beaming up at him. As she pulled back, she scrutinized his face. “And I see nothing’s changed.” She touched a light hand to his bruised eye.

 

“Wow, yeah…” John laughed, ruffling her hair much to her dismay as she started back towards her seat. “Missed you too, hun.” He grinned, as she mock glared at him through the process of readjusting her hair.

 

Robert shook his hand as well. “Good to have you back down South.” His eyes flitted to Alexander, who gave a small, awkward wave to the table.

 

John nodded to Robert, and then gestured to Alexander. “And all the way from the big city, Alexander Hamilton.”

 

Each returned a greeting to Alexander, as he and John settled into their seats.

 

Through catching up, John learned that Thomas had become a writer, while Sarah had taken up an interest in robotics.

 

“It’s just math, but more involved.” She’d noted.

 

Martha smiled mischievously. “John tell you how we met?” She directed the question to Alexander, who shook his head enthusiastically.

 

“He was my math tutor.” Sarah piped up.

 

Alexander raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

 

John let out a small laugh. “Yeah, you wouldn’t guess it from my scores at NYU.” This earned a polite round of laughter.

 

“Yeah, but the poor guy was helpless in Science.” Martha added teasingly, earning an indignant “Hey!” from John, to which she just laughed. “So  _ I  _ ended up tutoring  _ him _ .”

 

“In my defense, my junior year was Chemistry. Chemistry  _ sucks _ .” John managed, and Martha shrugged.

 

John and Alex laughed, and the recap turned to Robert Morris, who was studying finance at Coker College.

 

“That’s quite the commute,” John noted.

 

Robert nodded, his eyes tired. “I’m here for break, staying with family.” He explained.

 

John nodded, as the server appeared to take their order.

 

The group fell back into conversation, and soon they all had plates in front of them.

 

“So, I have to ask;” Martha began between mouthfuls of waffle, and then gestured to her own face with her fork. “What happened?”

 

John let out a small laugh. “Just some guy who didn’t know how to act. You’ll be impressed to hear it wasn’t I who threw the first punch though.” 

 

Martha raised her eyebrows. “Just because this guy hit you first doesn’t quell my assumption that you started the fight, John.” She commented.

 

“Actually it was me.” Alexander interjected. Martha’s eyes went wide, and Alexander quickly backtracked. “I didn’t hit  _ him, _ ” he gestured to John. “The two of us fought the guy together.”

 

Martha regarded him a moment, then cracked a smile. 

 

“And you still got your ass handed to you?” Sarah asked incredulously. “Maybe something has changed; you aren’t top dog anymore, Laurens.” She teased.

 

John scoffed, crossing his arms. “I’ll have you know, I was more than tipsy at the time.”

 

Sarah raised her eyebrows. “Then something has  _ definitely _ changed.”

 

He scoffed, taking a bite of his sandwich to avoid saying more on the subject.

 

Martha punched him in the arm. “Jack! Don’t be a bad influence on my sister.”

 

John raised his hands defensively, then looked pointedly at Sarah. “Don’t do alcohol. It’s bad for your liver, and your defensive skills.” He winked and Sarah laughed, while Martha glared at him.

 

“You know, I think Jack suits you.” Alexander commented, taking a sip of his coffee.

 

John groaned. “I swear, if you mention it to anyone back at school, I’ll kick your ass myself.”

 

Alexander choked on his coffee, fighting back a laugh as he recovered himself. “That’s rich.”

 

John turned to him, raising his eyebrows. “Why’s that?”

 

Alexander looked at him pityingly. “Babe, you know I’ve got nothing but love for you, but if we  _ did _ ever get into it…” He shrugged. “It’d be no contest.” He blinked innocently at John over his coffee cup.

 

John scoffed. “I can’t believe this slander.” He huffed with mock offense, not allowing his mind to linger on the ‘babe’ part too long.

 

“I mean, back in the day, John  _ did _ kick some serious ass.” Sarah muttered.

 

Alexander clicked his tongue. “That may be true, but you’d be surprised how scrappy I can be.” His eyes twinkled with amusement.

 

“And you may have lost some of your touch,” Thomas commented, looking amused with himself. 

 

John shook his head. “You can’t really think that.” He said disbelievingly, to which Thomas shrugged defensively.

 

“Most people decline in fitness after high school John, it isn’t anything to be ashamed of it.” Robert added, barely repressing a smile.

 

“See? Even they can see it.” Alexander looked smug, and John just shook his head. 

 

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” John muttered.

 

Martha laughed, a wholesome sound that filled the cafe and John’s contempt disappeared as he found himself laughing with her.

 

When everyone had caught their breath, John turned to Alexander. “Well I’d certainly like to see you try.”

 

“It’s on, Laurens.”

 

The group was quiet for a few moments, before Robert piped up again. “So, forgive me if I’m prying, but are you two together?”

 

He asked the question so casually, it caught John entirely off-guard.

 

Alexander let out a loud laugh, which struck John slightly. “No, I actually have a girlfriend in the city. We’re just friends.”

 

John swallowed thickly, taking a large bite of his sandwich and fixing his eyes on his plate.

 

He didn’t draw his eyes from where they were until his phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

**From: Martha Manning     11:22am**

**Are you good**

 

He looked up at her across the table, and found her studying him with an inquisitive look.

 

He gave her a small smile and a miniscule nod.

 

She pursed her lips, and then turned to type on her phone, as Alexander and the others continued to converse.

 

His phone buzzed again a moment later.

 

**From: Martha Manning     11:23am**

**You like him huh**

 

John bit his lip, and pointedly did not answer, but looked up to meet her eyes, with a look he hoped conveyed the uncertainty of his situation and feelings.

 

She gave him a sympathetic smile, and he nodded his appreciation.

 

The exchange occupied his mind, however; if it was so obvious that Martha Manning, who he’d dated without feelings for for nearly a full year, could see it, then who else could be wise to his true feelings?

 

Might the Schuylers have an apt enough perception?

 

He was fairly certain Peggy knew, based on the interactions they had (which had cast an interesting dynamic to their relationship). He also knew that both Hercules and Lafayette knew - beyond them knowing he liked Alexander, they knew some of what had happened between them.

 

But who else could know? Did Jefferson know? Phillip and Johnathan? Angelica? God forbid, did Eliza know?

 

He was shaken from these thoughts by Martha touching his arm lightly. He jolted to look at his old friend, and Martha’s eyebrows furrowed. 

 

“You good?” Alexander asked from his other side, concern creeping into his voice.

 

John nodded, trying to act nonchalant as he glanced between the two. “Totally, why?”

 

Alexander raised an eyebrow. “You just looked a little… Zoned out.” 

 

John shrugged. “Just a lot going on, I mean…” He gestured vaguely at the whole crew, who were now watching him. “Seeing everyone, being back here. It’s weird.”

 

When no one bothered to comment, and the attention remained on him, he crossed his arms.

 

Silence ensued briefly, only to be interrupted by the return of their bright eyed server, who asked around to and collected plates. “And will you be seeing a dessert menu today?” 

 

The group glanced at one another briefly, before Martha took charge. “Yes, we will, thank you.”

 

The server nodded. “I'll be right back.”

  
  


After dessert was finished, everyone said their goodbyes and John and Alexander hailed a cab back to their hotel.

 

The ride was silent, though John hardly noticed, his mind still lingering on the nonchalance with which Alexander had dismissed the prospect of their being a relationship, and with how apparent his infatuation seemed to be.

 

As soon as they entered the hotel room, Alexander returned to his bed and pulled his laptop out, returning to his typing.

 

John sighed and returned to his own, turning Star Trek back on and allowing Sir Patrick Stewart’s voice to overrule the screaming going on within his own brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for reading! I know this chapter wasn't much but filler, but it's just build up for the bachelorette party - establishing relationships and all that.
> 
> So till next time - though when that'll be between my new job and school I can't say, but I'll try to get something out there soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Come shout at me on Tumblr! @QueenoftheDamnNile


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